


Atonement

by steelcrash



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-27
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2017-12-09 15:10:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 30,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/775629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelcrash/pseuds/steelcrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The great Cybertronian war is over, but the sins of the past have a way of catching up with the present.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Atonement  
Chapter 1-Condemned  
Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers. They officially belong to Hasbro and Takara. I'm taking them for a short spin.  
Cybertron was the world that gave Optimus Prime birth, but Earth was home. Earth was where he discovered his purpose once more, it was the world giving him back his life. He missed it, at the moment, but standing on Cybertron once again reminded him of his purpose, he was his people’s Prime, and he welcomed that burden. Though no longer a heavy one, a burden he now shared with others. The sight before him was proof of that.   
Kaon’s rebuilding was making it into something magnificent; Galvatron seemed pleased with its progress. He was glad he hadn’t reconsidered making the former Decepticon Lord High Protector of Cybertron. Galvatron split his duties with Ultra Magnus, who shared his position in all but name. Ultra Magnus helped look after Optimus’ interests when he was away from Cybertron, but the two mechs had a working agreement. They knew what was at stake, and so did everyone else.   
Re-establishing the High Council was one of the first major steps taken in rebuilding Cybertron, and it was going better than expected. Cyclonus held a seat on the High Council representing the city-states of Vos and Kaon. Starscream was responsible once again for Vos, and Cyclonus had Kaon, but let Seeker let Cyclonus represent both city-states because he had his hands full with running Vos. Chromia represented Iacon and the rebuilt Praxus. Iacon and Praxus were free—they each had a democratic system in place with a ruling council as they had in the past, but all ultimately answered back to the Lord High Protector and his Prime.   
Not just one Prime now, but two. Optimus smiled at that thought. Hot Rod was still a Prime, but he’d taken back his old name. Working with the volatile young mech made Optimus’ spark lighter, but Hot Rod also was the most vexing being in the universe—chaos personified. He was just one of many working to make Cybertron something more than it once was, and Optimus marveled that they could work together at all. Galvatron was the muscle; Ultra Magnus provided logic and reason. Hot Rod was a force of change and chaos, but Optimus bound them all together in a single purpose—a united, thriving Cybertron.   
88888  
Earth, Autobot City  
Optimus Prime overlooked the construction going on at Autobot City. Repairs still weren’t finished, but the healing process was well under way. Eighteen months since his resurrection, and the end of the great Cybertronian war. Not long by the reckoning of a Cybertronian, but long enough for lasting change. Autobot City was being expanded bit by bit to accommodate the influx of personnel from Cybertron, and to provide quarters for the humans now making the city their home. Mostly EDC personnel and their families, but they were a welcome presence. Optimus hoped human families would give way to Cybertronian families.   
A happy thought to consider his first day back on Earth in weeks, but it wouldn’t last long. Klaxons started blaring, and his Autobots ran to their battle stations. Vexing, because they’d signed a peace treaty with Galvatron and any Cybertronian, Autobot, Decepticon or neutral who didn’t honor it would face dire consequences. Apparently the Decepticons who were attacking didn’t get that memo, Optimus mused as he helped defend the city from the short incursion.   
88888  
The battle didn’t last long and casualties were minimal, as far as Hot Rod knew. As head of security for the city, he was supposed to know, but his commanding officer hadn’t given Hot Rod a report yet, and he was probably facing a lecture at some point. Not that he cared, considering the attack had happened at all. That any Decepticons passed through their defenses was a fluke, and Springer was in the line of fire when they had was his only concern. The young Prime was in the med bay, waiting on a casualty report when Ratchet forcefully removed him from the med bay as he shouted orders at First Aid and Wheeljack. Hot Rod didn’t know what was going on, but he knew it was serious.   
And hours later, as quickly as he’d been removed by Ratchet, he found himself once more accosted by the CMO. Taking Hot Rod by the arm, the medic yanked him inside the med bay, dragging him toward the ICU, where First Aid and Wheeljack were working on a patient that was not Springer. Ratchet was blocking his view of the other two mechs, so Hot Rod looked toward the berth where Springer was laying, wires and energon lines attached, with Perceptor standing watch.   
“Springer almost went into stasis lock,” Ratchet said, once again jerking him along, to stand by the berth where First Aid and Wheeljack were. “It was triggered by his injuries and the forced, premature emergence of his sparkling.”  
The medic watched for any signs of reaction, but Hot Rod’s only reaction was a brief shuttering of his optics.   
“This is. . .”  
“Springer’s child,” Ratchet said. “Anything you want to tell me?”  
“He never told me he was seeing anyone,” Hot Rod said. “Is it. . .”  
“She’s lucky to be alive,” Ratchet said, checking over the monitors attached to the gunmetal grey protoform. “You honestly didn’t know he was sparked?”  
“Springer’s my friend,” Hot Rod said. “We’re close, but he’s like a brother. Look, like I said, I didn’t know if he’s seeing anyone or maybe it was just a one-night thing, but. . .”  
“You’re going to got get Optimus,” Ratchet said. “Now.”  
Hot Rod frowned, but didn’t further balk at the medic’s orders. He found Optimus outside, where he’d last seen him, helping with the cleanup efforts. Hot Rod ignored the way Optimus’ optics lit up when he saw him.   
“Optimus, you should come with me,” Hot Rod said. “There’s something you need to see, and Ratchet wants to talk to both of us.”  
“What is it?” Optimus asked.   
“It’s better if you see for yourself,” Hot Rod said.  
They walked in silence, and Optimus watched Hot Rod had to use his command override to get into the med bay. The Autobot leader noted an unconscious and how First Aid and Ratchet were hovering around a smaller berth. Ratchet left it, replaced by Wheeljack when he saw the two Primes enter.   
“My office,” Ratchet said.   
“What is going on?” Optimus asked.   
“He didn’t tell you?”  
“No, I didn’t,” Hot Rod said, giving the medic a defiant glare. Ratchet ignored the mech’s insolence, filing it away for further reference.   
“Springer was sparked and didn’t know it. I managed to explain what was going on with his injuries and condition before he went into emergency stasis lock, but we managed to stabilize him. Just barely,” Ratchet said. “The sparkling’s emergence was premature, triggered by Springer’s injuries. She’s small because she is premature, and lucky to be alive from the stress she’s been under.”  
A sparkling. A femme sparkling, Optimus mused over that fact, but he knew the situation was serious.   
“Will she live?”  
“Hard to say,” Ratchet said. “Would you like to see her?”  
Optimus nodded in affirmation, and suddenly found the protoform thrust into his hands. “She needs to be held,” Ratchet said. “Considering her carrier isn’t in any shape to do it, and I don’t have time.”  
Optimus cradled the sparkling, so tiny in his large hands.   
“Who is the sire?”  
“I don’t know,” Ratchet said. “I was hoping Hot Rod could shed some light on that matter.”  
“I don’t know either,” Hot Rod said snapped. “I already told you, and stop insinuating I’m not telling the truth.”  
Optimus recognized when Hot Rod was on the verge of a meltdown, and considering the circumstances, it was the last thing they needed, so he decided to intervene. “Why does she need to be held?” he asked.   
“Because she needs to be near a spark,” Ratchet said. “A spark resonance will help her, and so will a feeding, but I don’t think you want me to activate your feeding protocols. Just hold her for a bit, will you? Cradle her to your chest. That damn Matrix you carry has to be good for something, doesn’t it?”  
“What about feeding her?” Optimus said.   
“We’ll have to tap one of her lines for a peripheral feed for now,” Ratchet said. “And hope it works until Springer wakes up, or we find out who the other creator is. That’s what would be best, energon from someone she shares code with, considering her size and how she’s been stressed.”  
Optimus held the femme a little closer, watching Ratchet walk away.


	2. Chapter 2

Atonement  
Chapter 2-Faint  
Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers. They officially belong to Hasbro and Takara. I'm taking them for a short spin.

Beginning of third shift. Jazz was in charge of the watch in ops. He didn’t mind, all of the command staff took a shift at least once a week, including Optimus, when he was planetside. It kept them all sharp, and helped keep the troops in line. And like now, with Prowl’s appearance in ops, served to further quiet down the scuttlebutt.   
Prowl smiled at the mock salute Jazz offered.   
“Have you seen Hot Rod?” Prowl asked.   
“Not since this afternoon after the battle,” Jazz said. “He was with Optimus. Prime business, probably.”  
“My aft,” Prowl said. “He better not be shirking duty, because as my second in command, he was supposed to get me a casualty and damage report by now.”  
“Maybe he and boss bot are finally tradin’ paint,” Jazz said, so low Prowl had to strain to hear.  
“You’re delusional,” Prowl said, dragging his friend out of ops and into the corridor so no one else could overhear their conversation.  
Jazz grinned. “Those two are only gonna be able to dance around each other so long,” he said. “I know the kid had it bad for Optimus before. . .y’know. . .”  
“And you know this because?” Prowl asked, crossing his arms, exasperated with Jazz’s logic.   
“I had to listen to it almost every day for a very long time,” Jazz said. “You should see the way Optimus looks at him, sometimes, too. It hurts to watch.”  
“They’ve both been through more than either of us can imagine,” Prowl said.   
“What about you?” Jazz said.   
Prowl ignored the question. He didn’t need Jazz prying into his personal life, but he knew his friend meant well.   
“I’ll see if Hot Rod is in his office,” Prowl said. “At least it’s on my way to my quarters.”  
Jazz clapped his friend on the shoulder, walking back into ops.   
88888  
Hot Rod was working on his report for Prowl when the city commander walked into his office. The young Prime snapped the stylus in his hand, cursing under his breath.   
“I hope that’s my report,” Prowl said, not looking at Hot Rod, instead taking in the image of Optimus Prime with his feet up on the corner of Hot Rod’s desk, arms folded across his middle, in recharge.   
“It’s almost done,” Hot Rod said. “Sorry it’s late, but we had an. . .emergency to deal with this afternoon. Springer is going to be out for a while, . .”  
“What?” Prowl asked.  
“Springer was hurt during the battle,” Hot Rod said. “And there are some complications. If you want to know, you’re going to have to talk to Ratchet.”  
Prowl turned on his heel, throwing the report back at Hot Rod. The sound of the pad hitting the desk woke Optimus.   
“What’s going on?”  
“I wish I knew,” Hot Rod said. “Prowl just threw my report back at me.”  
“I’d hope by now you know how to write a report,” Optimus said, gently chiding the younger Prime.   
“I can write a report. I’ll finish it in the morning because he’s not interested. I think I’m going to turn in,” Hot Rod said, rising. “See you in the morning.”  
“Hot Rod,” Optimus started. Hot Rod turned around. “Yeah?”  
“Good night.”  
88888  
Ratchet wanted nothing more than to go back to his quarters and curl up next to whichever of his mates happened to be there, but duty called. Springer was still unconscious, and unresponsive. The cortical monitor showed processor activity was increasing, so Ratchet figured he’d hopefully wake up sometime during the night or following morning. The sooner the better, because Springer’s sparkling wasn’t doing well. The medic picked her up, mindful of the monitors attached to the protoform.   
“Brightspark, it’ll be all right,” Ratchet said, fervently hoping he wasn’t lying to the tiny femme. “I’m doing what I can, but you need your carrier, or your sire. It’s just that your aft-headed carrier wouldn’t tell me when he had the chance. Little one, you’re the first of your kind in so long. . .proof that we can move on, can have a future. . .”  
Ratchet trailed off when he heard the med bay doors open. Prowl. Great. He started to smart off to the city commander, but stopped when he saw the strange look on Prowl’s face.   
“How is Springer?” Prowl asked.   
“Lucky to be alive,” Ratchet said. “If you’re wanting my report, you can come get it sometime tomorrow. I have more important things to deal with right now.”  
The medic nodded toward the sparkling in his arms. “Springer got himself shot, and it triggered premature emergence of the sparkling he said he did not know he was carrying. I’ve had my hands full with both of them,” Ratchet continued.   
“Sparkling?” Prowl asked, edging closer to the medic.   
“A femme,” Ratchet said.   
Prowl gently reached out, touching the sparkling’s forehead. She stirred, then stilled. The Autobot second in commnd could not believe his optics, looking at the sparkling--his child.


	3. Chapter 3

Atonement  
Chapter 3—Step Up  
Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers. They officially belong to Hasbro and Takara. I'm taking them for a short spin.  
Kaon, Cybertron

Galvatron, Lord High Protector of Cybertron, stared up at the ceiling of his quarters, thinking. Recharge wouldn’t come, so he rolled off his berth, pacing. The silence in his mind was disquieting. The human saying “alone with his thoughts” fit. He’d been, in effect, healed by the Autobots’ Matrix of Leadership when it cured the Hate Plague. The madness in his mind and spark was gone, and along with it, the taint of Unicron. 

As Megatron, his mania had been held in check; his unmaking at the hands of Unicron changed him in ways he could never imagine. Being reborn as Galvatron had taken only moments, but he’d perceived it as taking much longer. And the torture. . .Primus, he would never forget. Unmade, stripped down to nothing, then remade into a creature something other than the proud warrior he once was. More than misguided, perhaps, but Megatron at least had his wits about him. Galvatron, for a time, was something else. Now, he was trying to make up for all the wrongs he’d done. Once, he’d been right in his conviction, but he’d been corrupted by power. He would not, could not let that happen again. He knew what was at stake, not just himself, but his homeworld. 

Ah, yes, himself. Galvatron allowed himself a wry smile at that. He knew what would happen if he stepped out of line, if Optimus Prime even suspected he was planning something. It wasn’t a threat, but statement of fact. Prime would kill him, or, if he didn’t have the courage to face Optimus in combat once again, he’d better be willing to offline himself. At least Optimus gave him a choice, but it was one Galvatron was not going to exercise. He’d been through too much to give up the chance he’d been given. There was no penance in the universe that could make up for the lives he’d taken and the destruction caused, but by the Matrix, he was going to try. Damn Prime, damn the Matrix, and damn Primus. Galvatron walked out to the balcony, and took off, heading toward Vos. A certain Seeker was long overdue and apology, and much more.   
88888  
Earth, Autobot City

Ratchet watched as Prowl backpedaled away, knocking over a tray of instruments, and called after the other Autobot as he ran from the med bay. The sparkling didn’t even startle at the noise. Not a good sign, the medic reflected, checking the monitors. He couldn’t get her to feed, which was the most pressing issue for the sparkling, considering her prematurity and size. She’d die, and soon, if he couldn’t get her to turn the corner. He sat down on the berth by Springers, rocking the sparkling. She didn’t rouse, but it made him feel better. Rocking younglings was something Cybertronians had in common with humans. It made Ratchet feel better, rocking her, trying to let her know she was cared for, and she had a reason to live. 

Prowl’s reaction, however, was something he could do something about. He commed Jazz, knowing the specops commander was on duty, letting him know to be on the lookout for Jazz. 

Except Jazz was already aware of the problem from the look on his friend’s face when he walked back into ops. 

“Prowler, what is it?” he asked. 

“My quarters, we can talk there,” Prowl said. 

Jazz followed him, noting the tension in Prowl’s frame in the short walk to his friend’s quarters. Prowl let himself in, and Jazz followed. 

Prowl didn’t even wait until the door closed. “It’s Springer,” he said. “He’s in the med bay. I don’t know how long he’ll be out, and that’s not all. He was sparked.”

Jazz didn’t move. He knew Prowl and Springer had been involved for a short time, but not that the relationship was that serious. “Was?”

“The sparkling is alive, but how viable. . .” Prowl said. “You should see her. She’s so small. . .” His vents hitched, and he hit his knees, sobbing. Jazz knelt down beside him, wrapping his arms around his friend. And that was where he stayed, holding Prowl until the sobs abated, and the other mech fell into recharge.   
88888  
Just after 0400. The med bay was dark, and it took Springer a few moments to remember why he was there. A glance over at Ratchet, who was in recharge face down on a console, reminded him of just why he was in the med bay. The triple changer sat up slowly, grimacing at the pain in his spark chamber as he moved. He pulled at the various wires connected to his frame, ripping out the energon line last. It smarted, but it was the least of his worries. He had to get away. 

0600\. The angry comm from Ratchet roused Hot Rod from recharge. :Find Springer and bring him back before I do: was enough to get Hot Rod out of his berth and on his feet. Luckily for Springer, the first place Hot Rod looked was where he found his friend—Lookout Mountain. Hot Rod followed an energon trail across the observation platform, finding Springer sitting on the edge. The green mech had one hand pressed over the seam in his chest armor. 

“Figured you’d be the one to find me,” Springer said. 

“Damn straight,” Hot Rod said. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I needed some time to think,” Springer said. 

“About the fact you should be in the med bay, maybe devoting some time to your daughter?” Hot Rod said. 

“I made a mistake,” Springer said. “The kid’ll do fine without me.”

“That sparkling will die if you don’t take care of her,” Hot Rod said. “She’s not doing well. And how can you say a new life is a mistake? Why didn’t you tell me? Don’t you trust me anymore?”

Springer shot him an angry look. “Like you’ve had much time for anyone or anything but Prime, or duty,” he said. “You probably wouldn’t have had the time to listen if I did want to talk.”

“Well, I’m here now, aren’t I? So talk,” Hot Rod said. 

“Prowl’s gonna kill me,” Springer said. “I knew we should’ve called it off long before we did.”

“Prowl’s the sire?” Hot Rod asked, trying to keep the shock off his face. 

“Hot Rod, for a while, after he got out of the med bay, he was so lost. He didn’t think he had a place anymore, with Optimus dead, and you Prime, you were so busy, you didn’t notice,” Springer said, struggling to stand, but he made it to his feet. “You were trying to put Cybertron back together, and Magnus riding you so hard. . .”

“I’m glad you found each other, but the pressing issue now is getting you back to the med bay so Ratchet can patch you back up and you can get to know your sparkling,” Hot Rod said. 

“Like I told you, she’ll be fine. Prowl’s cut out for this parent thing, I’m not. . .”

Crack. Springer hit the ground, not believing his best friend had the gall to hit him. Then Hot Rod was jerking him to his feet. 

“You’re going to do the right thing,” Hot Rod said. “This had nothing to do with me being a Prime, or Optimus, or anything else. This is about you doing what you need to do to make sure your daughter lives. Are we clear?”

Springer nodded in affirmation, but he started to shake. 

“We better get you back to Ratchet. Can you transform?”

“I shouldn’t try,” Springer said. 

“That didn’t stop you before,” Hot Rod retorted, slipping an arm around the other mech to hold him up.

“I wasn’t bleeding then, or seeing stars,” Springer said. 

“Primus. . .” Hot Rod muttered. He commed Optimus, asking the other Prime to meet him atop the mountain. “Optimus is going to come give us a ride back.”

“Great,” Springer muttered. 

“You’re lucky it’s him and not Ratchet,” Hot Rod said. 

“Optimus is better than Magnus, too,” Springer said.   
“  
You’re gonna need every ounce of sense we can knock into that processor of yours,” Hot Rod said. 

Springer snorted, but he leaned against Hot Rod, throwing his arms around his friend. 

“Rodi, I’m afraid,” he said. 

“Optimus and I will be there for you, no matter what happens,” Hot Rod said. “She needs you, so does Prowl.”

“You promise you’ll be there for us?”

“I wouldn’t make a promise I can’t keep,” Hot Rod said. “Who’s the grown-up now, eh, brother?”

Springer snorted. “It’s a cold day in the Pit, with you being the grown-up,” he said. 

Hot Rod smiled, touching his helm’s to Springer’s. Maybe things would be all right.


	4. Chapter 4

Atonement  
Chapter 4—Don’t Stay  
Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers. They officially belong to Hasbro and Takara. I'm taking them for a short spin.

 

The ride back with Springer in Optimus’ trailer was a silent one. Less pleasant was depositing Springer back in the med bay, but only Optimus’ presence kept Ratchet from becoming completely unhinged. And of course, the medic had thrown them out, telling him he’d call later. No getting around Ratchet’s wrath, and he’d added the sparkling’s survival was anyone’s guess before he’d removed them from his domain. 

Now, Hot Rod was in his quarters, thinking, while Optimus paced. Throttling Springer wouldn’t solve a damn thing. Maybe make him feel better, but it would deprive Prowl of the chance to do it himself. Springer endangered himself and his sparkling. Hot Rod was beyond angry. Didn’t Springer trust him? His friend was distraught, and Optimus, well, the older Prime, the less said, the better. Hot Rod’s rant in front of the other Prime, while nothing compared to Optimus’ fury, summed up both of their feelings on the matter. The first sparkling born post-war, and not under the best of circumstances. 

Optimus furious—a sight to behold, and not something Hot Rod wanted to witness again soon. A sign of trust, or Optimus didn’t care who saw him that angry. Hot Rod hoped it was trust. Optimus Prime didn’t let down his barriers, ever, no matter how Hot Rod tried to breach them. He was wise enough to recognize a lost cause when he saw it. Having the other Prime around was a constant remind he’d never have what he truly wanted. Optimus’ presence in Autobot City was one thing, but having him in his quarters. . .Primus. 

“Shouldn’t you be heading back to Cybertron?” Hot Rod asked. 

Optimus stopped pacing, coming to a stop in front of Hot Rod. “I think, considering the circumstances, it’s best if I stick around, don’t you?”

“Jazz and I can handle things here,” Hot Rod said. 

“I thought. . .”

“What?” Hot Rod said, getting annoyed. 

“Never mind,” Optimus said. “I’ve decided I’m staying for a few days.”

“Won’t they need you on Cybertron?”

“Magnus has things well in hand, and Galvatron and he can take care of things in my stead. That was the point in making Galvatron Lord High Protector,” Optimus said. 

“A stupid decision if you ask me,” Hot Rod said. 

Optimus’ optics narrowed, and Hot Rod glared back. 

“It’s nice to know much my opinion counts,” Hot Rod said. “I’m a Prime, supposedly your co-Prime.”

Optimus moved closer to the other mech, placing his hands on his shoulders. “Your opinion counts, but that was a decision mine alone to make. I know your feelings about Galvatron, and believe me, if he steps out of line, he will be dealt with swiftly.”  
“  
Whatever,” Hot Rod muttered, twisting out of Optimus’ grip. 

“What’s gotten into you?” Optimus asked. 

“Gee, I don’t know—my best friend didn’t trust me enough to tell me he was seeing someone, and it was fairly serious from the looks of it,” Hot Rod said. “My CMO is on the warpath, and I get to deal with it all by myself.”

“Why do you think I’m staying?” Optimus said, crossing his arms. “Prowl is emotionally compromised, and he’s in no condition to be running things around here, at least until he and Springer get something sorted out. Remind me to relieve him of duty first thing in the morning.”

Hot Rod sighed, balling his fist, counting backward from 10. He was not going to belt Optimus. 

“You should learn better control over your energy field,” Optimus said. “I’m certain everyone down the corridor can feel your distress.”

“Leave,” Hot Rod said. 

Optimus frowned, but he did as he was asked. Further agitating Hot Rod in his current mood was a bad idea. Once out in the corridor, Optimus leaned his head against the wall, venting air in a sigh. What in the Pit had he done to earn Hot Rod’s anger this time? Sometimes, they shared an easy camaraderie. Rare moments he treasured, but they just couldn’t find any even ground. He was co-Prime, mentor, friend, but there was awkwardness to their relationship neither would acknowledge.  
He was lonely, and sometimes he wondered if Hot Rod was seeing anyone. A talk with Jazz earlier that day revealed the young Prime wasn’t seeing anyone, and more often than not, worked himself to the brink of exhaustion. Jazz called it “Prowl lite.” That was so unlike the Hot Rod Optimus remembered, but sometimes, the younger mech did show some of the bravado he once had. The aftermath of the Hate Plague had been a traumatic time for the young Prime, and Optimus was glad the depression and sadness were long gone. (Or so he thought.) Hot Rod had questioned his self-worth upon his return, and wondered if there was still a place for him among the Autobots. It had taken time, but Optimus, Kup, Springer and others had finally gotten through to Hot Rod. And at one time, during those dark days, Optimus would have gladly showed him how much he meant to him. His fire and fighting spirit Optimus admired, and they’d renewed his hope. 

Except now, he wanted to throttle the other mech. Or shove him against a wall and show him how he felt. Not appropriate at all, and it would get him shot. Optimus didn’t want to have to explain that to Ratchet. Primus. What was wrong with him? Prowl, one of his closest friends, was hurting, and he was having an internal dialogue about his lack of love life. Prowl was something he could sort out, a concrete problem he could deal with, at least in the line of duty. Personally, it was going to be a mess, and he would do what he could in both capacities. On that thought, he made for his quarters. He’d sleep on it.   
88888  
Ratchet watched Springer as he fed his daughter. A few clumsy attempts at getting his energon lines to do what he wanted, and getting the little femme to do what she needed took effort and patience on both their parts. Her vitals were more stable, and that reassured the medic that maybe she’d make it after all. Watching it all was Prowl, who offered encouragement to Springer and the sparkling. That reminded the medic he needed to online Prowl’s feeding protocols. The sparkling needed one caregiver she could rely on, and it was probably going to be Prowl, given the circumstances. Maybe he was wrong, but he wouldn’t bet good credits on it. He watched, satisfied as Springer retracted his energon line back into his wrist without spewing fuel everywhere, and smiled when the triple changer jumped when the sparkling emitted a weak but satisfied chirp. 

“That’s a good sign,” Ratchet said. “Her vitals are stronger, and that’s the first time she’s vocalized since emergence. You did a good job, Springer.”

He clapped the green mech on the shoulder. Positive reinforcement and encouragement were needed. He was not going to offline Springer with a wrench to the head. Best to change the subject to something manageable. 

“Have you two come up with a name yet?” the medic asked. 

“Prowl picked it out. He can tell you,” Springer said. 

Prowl stood, coming over, taking his daughter out of Springer’s arms. “Her name is Echo,” he said. 

“Short and sweet,” Ratchet said. “It should suit her.”

“Ratchet, you’re talking like you believe she’s going to be fine,” Prowl said. 

“Don’t you?” Ratchet asked. “She needs you two, your love and support more than anything I can give her. Hold her, talk to her, feed her, and she should pull through. Echo isn’t the first premature sparkling I’ve dealt with. I wasn’t always just a battlefield medic, you know. You two need to move past the idea that she might not survive and on to the reality of the fact you’re now parents. You’ve created a life together. I don’t care if you two can’t stand each other, and aren’t together anymore, but for now, for her sake, you are. She needs you both. Deal with it, or I will.”

Ratchet left them alone, walking into his office. He didn’t see the glance that passed between Springer and Prowl. 

“How serious do you think he is?” Prowl asked. 

“Were you even listening?” Springer said. “Your glitch acting up, or are you deaf?” 

“I asked a serious question,” Prowl said. 

“I gave you a serious answer, aft-head,” Springer said. “That was not a threat. How’s that for serious?”

“Is everything a joke to you?” Prowl asked. 

“No,” Springer said. “I’ll stick this out long enough to make sure she’s OK, then I’m done.”

“I can deal with the fact you don’t want me,” Prowl said. “But you don’t want your own child?”

Springer’s face hardened. “Now is not the time to have this discussion,” he said. 

“When is then?” Prowl said. 

“Fine. Bottom line is, Prowl, we messed up, and now this sparkling is going to pay for it. Maybe we never should have ended it, and we wouldn’t be in this situation,” Springer said. 

“Meaning we would not have produced a sparkling,” Prowl said. 

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Springer said. “Look, I’m exhausted, and we’re both on the verge of saying things I hope we’ll both regret. Echo needs to rest, and so do we. This is not going to be an easy road. Primus Prowl, let things be for now. Please.”

“I’m sorry,” Prowl said, reaching over, placing a hand on Springer’s shoulder. “You’re right. I should’ve listened to you all those months ago. . .”

“Apology for tonight accepted,” Springer said. “Forgiving you is going to take more time than that.”

Prowl let the last slide, setting Echo back down into her berth. He pulled up a chair, taking seat between the sparkling and Springer’s own berth. 

“I know now we were both wrong,” Prowl said softly, looking over at Springer, hoping the other mech heard, but he was already in recharge.


	5. Chapter 5

Atonement  
Chapter 5--Slip  
Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers. They officially belong to Hasbro and Takara. I'm taking them for a short spin.

Vos, Cybertron  
Starscream sat perched on a spire, overlooking the city spread out below. Vast parts of the metroplex were dark, the swaths that were abandoned or purposefully neglected of power and resources to enable the civilian defense forces to weed out rogue Decepticons. Those areas were the ones no sane mech or femme would venture, too damaged for habitation, but that didn’t stop some of them from taking up residence. Some did need help. Those were the ones they needed find and relocate someplace safe. The rest, well, Starscream felt carpet-bombing them from orbit was a suitable fate. They were halting the restoration of his city. 

He couldn’t get back to something as simple as his joy in flight or scientific discovery as long as he was overseeing the reconstruction efforts. Optimus Prime decided it would be a worth vocation, and keep him out of trouble. The Prime was correct, and Starscream was grateful he was still functioning. Oh, and Optimus made sure Galvatron was so busy he couldn’t meddle in his affairs. Or so he thought. 

:Starscream, where are you?:

Slag, Starscream thought. Galvatron. He considered ignoring the comm, but decided against it. Maybe his former lord and master would provide a suitable distraction. 

:I’ll meet you at the Citadel.:

:Fine.: Galvatron answered. 

Minutes later, Starscream was in his quarters, not knowing what to do with the former Decepticon leader. 

“What do you want?” Starscream finally asked. 

“I came to talk,” Galvatron said. 

“Why?” Starscream said, crossing his arms. 

“When do I ever need a reason?” Galvatron said. “Maybe I’ve just missed the endless amusement your antics used to provide.”

“You consider assassination attempts amusing? Maybe Hatchet needs to examine your processor,” Starscream said. 

“Silence, Starscream.”

“You can’t just show up and think you can order me around,” Starscream said. “Things have changed. The Decepticons no longer exist. I see you no longer wear the brand of which you were once so proud.”

“Neither do you,” Galvatron said. “I actually came to offer you an apology.”

Galvatron smirked at the expression on the Seeker’s face—the hanging jaw and disbelief were more than worth the effort. 

“You can’t be serious,” Starscream said. 

“I am,” Galvatron said. “I’m sorry for so many things Starscream, foremost among them the way I treated you.”

“You’ve gone mad,” Starscream said, incredulous.

“Starscream, I’m in my right mind at the moment,” he said, chiding his former second in command.

“I don’t need to be patronized, and if you’re planning something, Prime will find out, and it will be the end of us both,” Starscream said. 

“We both know how hard you are to kill,” Galvatron said. 

“And as I said, you’re mad,” Starscream insisted.

“I came to discuss the fact we still have a chance to help shape the face of our homeworld,” Galvatron said. “A different way than I ever considered. Why do you think I accepted Prime’s offer of becoming High Protector of our planet?”

“I don’t know,” Starscream said. 

“Your ambition knows no bounds, and your cunning, with guidance of course, could impact our world in ways neither of us could imagine,” Galvatron said. “Think about that Starscream—giving up running this city, when you could be working with the scientific division in Iacon, where your true interest lies. You could be among your Seeker-kin. Or you could consider an offer that I think we would find mutually beneficial.”

“I’m not helping with your rebellion, if that’s what you’re planning,” Starscream said. 

“Hardly,” Galvatron said. “I’ve come to make an offer of courtship.”  
88888  
Autobot City  
Hot Rod followed Optimus Prime down the corridor, heading for Prowl’s office. Once there, they found the door open, and Prowl going through a stack of reports.

“Prowl, what do you think you’re doing?” Optimus asked.

“Catching up on what I’ve missed,” Prowl said, not looking up at his leader.

“You should be in the med bay with your daughter,” Optimus said.

“I’ll go later,” Prowl replied.

“No, you’re going now,” Optimus said. “Prowl, I’m removing you from duty until further notice.”

That got Prowl’s attention.

“I understand I’ve broken protocol, creating an unauthorized sparkling, and I’ll face whatever punishment you decide upon,” Prowl said. 

“That sounds rehearsed,” Hot Rod said. 

“I know,” Optimus said. “Prowl, I don’t care at the moment you broke protocol. This is a command decision based on how your personal life is going to impact your ability to carry out your duties effectively. That’s why I’m staying on for a while. Now get out of here before I physically remove you. Or I’ll get Ratchet involved.”

Prowl set down his data pad, stood up, and walked out of the office. 

“That went well,” Hot Rod said. 

“For now,” Optimus said. “How is Echo this morning?”

“Better,” Hot Rod said. “Spring is struggling, but First Aid was with him, and he’s more patient than Ratchet.”

“That’s good to hear,” Optimus said. 

“Yeah,” Hot Rod said. “So what now?”

“I’ll be meeting with Jazz this afternoon to go over the progress report on the city expansion and personnel needs,” Optimus said. “You can sit in if you’d like.”

“Sit in? I’m the city security director and Prowl’s second in command, not Jazz,” Hot Rod snapped. “I’m working my aft off trying to prove myself. You’re just going to write me off because of my age and lack of experience?”

Optimus was expecting a reaction with his choice of words, but this was new. “What brought this on?” he asked, curious.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t heard the rumors—from the some of the EDC personnel to the old Ark crew—I’m too young and inexperienced for my current duty assignment, being chosen as Prime was a fluke, and oh, by the way, let’s not forget the fact I got you killed.”

Optimus raised an optic ridge in exasperation, wondering just how much stress Hot Rod had actually been under lately, and if Jazz had left out any details during their discussion about the younger mech. 

“Hot Rod, it’s gossip,” Optimus said. “Don’t pay attention. You are young and inexperienced in some aspects, but you are a Prime. You’re the Prime who did what I could not—you ended the war.”

“Sheer luck, that,” Hot Rod said. “It could have been you instead of me, if I hadn’t gotten in the way. . .”

So, that was possibly the root of the problem. “You blame yourself for my death? It wasn’t your fault.”

“I keep telling myself, and I finally get to hear you say the words, and I don’t believe it,” Hot Rod said. 

“Would you rather have traded places?” Optimus asked.

“I’ve watched you die twice. Twice. Once was bad enough, but I don’t think I could live through that again,” Hot Rod said, leaning up against the wall for support. “Primus, and you go and make Galvatron your High Protector. We both know how that’s going to end. You and your damn martyr complex. You know, you might accomplish more by living.”

“My death paved the way for the war’s end,” Optimus said. 

“If you believe that, you’re crazier than I am,” Hot Rod said. 

Optimus could feel the distress coming off Hot Rod in waves. He’d never meant to cause the other mech any distress. He closed the distance between them, pulling Hot Rod against his own frame, wrapping his arms around the slender mech. He flared his own field against Hot Rod’s, sending reassurance and comfort, seeking to synch his field with the other mech. Hot Rod’s energy field evened out, and Optimus retracted his battle mask, placing a chaste kiss against Hot Rod’s helm, another on his jaw, and finally his lips. There was no turning back now.


	6. Chapter 6

Atonement  
Chapter 6—In Between  
Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers. They officially belong to Hasbro and Takara. I'm taking them for a short spin.

 

Optimus managed to get them to Prowl’s desk, where now, Hot Rod was wrapped around him, the emotion coming from his field wasn’t distress, but the heat of want. Optimus kept flashing glyphs at him, but Hot Rod wouldn’t respond, only kept kissing him, grabbing at his shoulders and pulling him back each time he tried to move away. Not that Optimus minded the other mech grinding against his chest and other plating. Pleasant, and only a precursor of things to come.   
Except he felt something hit his head, and Hot Rod was promptly pulling away. 

“What in the Pit do you think you’re doing?” Ratchet. Optimus turned around slowly, and the comment was clearly meant for him, from the fact the medic was looking at him with murder in his optics. 

Optimus barely registered the fact Hot Rod slipped past on shaky legs before he found himself grabbed by his right finial, the medic earing him down like humans used to do with horses, dragging him out of Prowl’s office, down the corridor and into his quarters. 

“As I asked, what in the Pit were you doing?” Ratchet growled, not letting go, pulling Optimus’ head down so their optics were level.

“What did it look like?” Optimus retorted, grabbing Ratchet’s wrist, trying to free himself, but the medic only gripped his finial tighter. “Why is it even any of your business?”

“Prowl’s desk with the door open maybe?” Ratchet countered. “I thought you had more sense than that. And you don’t even know. . .”

Optimus frowned, and Ratchet let him go, the Prime backing up, rubbing at his finial. “Know what?”

“Of course not,” Ratchet said. “Slow down, talk to him, and if you don’t, I’m going to remove your interfacing array without putting you under.”

The glare faded, replaced by a puzzled look. “What did you hit me with?” Optimus asked, changing the subject.

“A data pad,” Ratchet said. “I was looking for Prowl because he hadn’t come by the med bay yet.”

“Is Echo doing well?”

“She’s doing as well as expected,” Ratchet said. “Holding her own.”

“And Springer?”

“Resigned to the fact he’s going to be stuck as caregiver for the foreseeable future,” Ratchet said. 

“Are we finished?” Optimus asked. 

“Yes. For now,” Ratchet said.   
88888  
Galvatron waited for a reaction from Starscream, who suddenly had a smirk on his face. “You honestly think I’d court you?” the Seeker asked. 

“Why do you think I’m asking?” Galvatron replied, crossing his arms, anything to stifle the urge to throttle the flier. 

“I might consider it, on one condition,” Starscream said. 

“This is not a negotiation,” Galvatron replied. 

“I’m giving my counter-offer, then,” Starscream said. “How’s that?”

“Well?”

“I’ll consider it if you agree to my terms,” Starscream said. 

“What terms, Starscream?”

“Give me back what you’ve taken from me, and I might let you court me,” Starscream said. 

“What do you mean?” Galvatron asked, confused. 

“Because of you, I lost my trine-mates, my brothers,” Starscream said. 

“They still exist,” Galvatron said. “As Scourge and Cyclonus.”

“Those abominations are not Thundercracker and Skywarp,” Starscream said. “They died the day we attacked Autobot City.”

“So did I,” Galvatron said. "But I, as the humans say, ‘made a deal with the devil. And look what it cost me.”

“Yet here you stand,” Starscream said. 

“I died and was remade as something else,” Galvatron said. “And you, I destroyed, and you also made a deal with the Unmaker, yet you’re still the same conniving fool you always were.”

“Conniving being the most important thing,” Starscream said. “I know I’m a coward, and it’s kept me alive.”

“Yet you’re foolish enough to continually challenge me,” Galvatron said. 

“Because you’re possibly the only being in existence worthy of me,” Starscream said. 

Coyness. This was a new potentially interesting development from his former second in command. 

“What would you have of me Starscream? I tire of this discourse,” Galvatron finally said. 

“I want you to be the sire of my offspring,” Starscream said. 

“If I court you, that will be part of the culmination of our relationship,” Galvatron said. 

“I have my pride and tradition to consider,” Starscream said. “I demand reparation for the loss of my trine. Siring a sparkling is something any bot can do, but being worthy of a bond, I doubt you’re suitable.” 

Galvatron closed the distance between them, shoving the Seeker against the wall. “Starscream, once again, you’re starting a war you will not win,” Galvatron said. “I will prove you wrong once and for all.”

He captured Starscream’s lips with his own, running a hand down the Seeker’s cockpit and finally down to the plating over his interface array. The panel clicked open, and Galvatron pulled back, long enough to let Starscream see the smirk on his face. “Oh Starscream, how long I’ve waited for this moment. . .”  
88888

Prowl sat cross-legged on the medical berth by Springer’s, holding Echo in his arms. She was wrapped in a thermal blanket, and he had to be careful of the leads attached to her fragile form. He was almost afraid of holding her, but Ratchet said she wouldn’t break, and sparklings were tougher than they looked. It still didn’t make him feel any less guilty about the whole situation. His child, and he’d been unable to keep Springer from getting hurt, or the harm done to Echo. 

Prowl hoped Springer cared about their daughter, and the fact he was willing to help with her meant maybe he’d want to work things out. Maybe they had been foolish, spark-merging, not thinking to consider the circumstances. They’d both been careless, physically and emotionally, and look what it almost cost—Springer and the life of their daughter. Prowl hadn’t let himself completely deal with the gravity of that thought. Breaking down in front of Jazz was just a tiny bit of relief of what he was really feeling. 

At the moment, that consisted of putting Echo in her berth, leaving her to Ratchet’s care and crawling into the berth next to Springer and getting some recharge. Almost three days since he’d last recharged, and he was starting to feel it. Prowl didn’t care if Ratchet knew. And recharging next to Springer would probably get him kicked out of the med bay by the triple changer. He missed waking up next to the other mech. Maybe he’d tell him if he got the chance, but Echo was waking up, and due another feeding. Prowl unspoiled an energon from his line, offering it to the little femme. She clicked as she took the line, and Prowl smiled. Her vocalizations were getting stronger, and becoming more frequent. All good signs, Ratchet said. Hope was a good thing, because at the moment, it was all Prowl had.   
88888  
Hot Rod locked himself in his office, leaning against the door, sliding down until his aft hit the ground, cursing Ratchet to the Pit and back. Maybe the medic thought he was doing him a favor, but he could butt out. Really. He’d be fine, even if something happened with Optimus only once. 

He got to his feet, cycling air, coming back to his senses. There. Duty called.


	7. Chapter 7

Atonement  
Chapter 7--  
Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers. They officially belong to Hasbro and Takara. I'm taking them for a short spin.

 

Galvatron woke, untangling himself from Starscream. He looked down at the recharging Seeker, who’d proved an ardent lover. He gently caressed Starscream’s face, and he stirred, but didn’t wake. Maybe he was on the verge of making yet another mistake, but it was his choice. He’d deal with the consequences. There was no more running, blaming others, or most important of all, not blaming Starscream. It would be easy to slip back into that old, familiar pattern, but he was not longer that mech. He had a planet and people to protect, and a Prime to answer to. Maybe that was his fate, and his penance, after all. 

88888

Sunset, and Hot Rod was sitting up on the observation deck at Lookout Mountain. The place reminded him of happier times, back when he was just still Hot Rod, spending time with Daniel Witwicky, or listening to Kup talk about his potential. Still full of dreams and thinking anything was possible. He wasn’t that mech anymore. Parts still remained, but becoming Matrix-bearer forced him to grow up. The weight of responsibility and duty almost crushed him, but he was too stubborn to give up. That, and in those first days after becoming Prime, Ultra Magnus wouldn’t let him. Neither would Kup, but there had been friction between   
Magnus and his mentor over just how he needed be treated. 

Magnus was the harsh voice of reason, and Kup the reassurance he needed. Springer, Blurr and Arcee were there as much as they could be, but the only one who truly understood was Magnus. Hot Rod missed him, wished Magnus could be spared from his duties on Cybertron, for just a day or two, and talk. Or spend some time with Kup, Arcee or Blurr. Again, they all had their duties. So did he. Maybe he was using it as an excuse to not leave Earth. And speaking of excuses, one was pulling up. He heard the familiar engine of Optimus Prime, who transformed, walking up to join him.

“I thought I’d find you here,” Optimus said, taking a seat beside Hot Rod. “I haven’t been up here in quite some time. You and Daniel used this as a hiding place, if I remember correctly.”

“We weren’t hiding,” Hot Rod said. “Kup always knew where we were. Danny was always safe with me.”

“I never suggested he wasn’t,” Optimus said. “He keeps asking when you’re coming to visit, and I’m tired of making excuses for you.”

“The kid’s in school, and I’m busy here,” Hot Rod said. 

“He gets days off,” Optimus said. “So do you.”

“I’ll think about it,” Hot Rod answered. 

“You’ll do more than think about it,” Optimus said. “I think Jazz and I can handle things here long enough for you to spend a day or two on Cybertron. It’s only a bridge journey away.”

“I’m not leaving Springer right now,” Hot Rod said. 

“Fine. I’ll have Spike send Daniel here,” Optimus said. “Problem solved.”

“I would like to see Danny,” Hot Rod said. “Letters and video chats aren’t the same.”

“You do need time off every now and then,” Optimus suggested. “Ratchet won’t like it if you end up as a patient.”

“Yeah, I know. Speaking of that, guess you haven’t heard, have you?” 

“What?” Optimus asked. “I’ve been in meetings all day with Marissa Fairborne and some of the other EDC personnel, discussing what parts of the city expansion they can modify.”

“Prowl wasn’t going to budge, and I hope you didn’t either,” Hot Rod said. 

“I didn’t,” Optimus said. “What’s going on with Ratchet?”

“He flipped when Prowl crashed this afternoon,” Hot Rod said. “I guess Prowl hasn’t been recharging, so now he’s a patient in the med bay. I had to call First Aid to relieve Ratchet, give him some time to cool off. It was not pleasant.”

“Is Echo all right?” Optimus asked. 

“She’s doing all right. Springer is too, for now,” Hot Rod said. 

“Speaking of Ratchet, he suggested you and I talk,” Optimus said. “About what happened this morning.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Hot Rod answered. “Ratchet can slag off.”

He was going to have a talk with the medic. Ratchet had no right to butt in like he had. It was Hot Rod’s business, told in confidence to First Aid, who no doubt had discussed it with Ratchet, who as CMO, needed to be aware of the situation. And that was only if it happened again, but it hadn’t, because he hadn’t allowed himself to get close to anyone, except his lack of judgment where Optimus was concerned earlier that day.

“If Ratchet mentioned it, then. . .”

“Not important, it’s my personal business, and if I wanted you to know, I’d tell you,” Hot Rod responded, standing. He transformed, taking off, leaving Optimus alone.


	8. One Step Closer

Atonement

Chapter 8—One Step Closer

Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers. They officially belong to Hasbro and Takara. I'm taking them for a short spin.

Springer ignored the stares he received as he walked down the corridor from the med bay with Hot Rod. He knew by now it was probably all over the city about his condition, Echo and everything. He didn't care, either. He was just glad to be out of the med bay for a little while, even if it was under Hot Rod's supervision. It was the only way Ratchet would let him out, and Primus, he needed it. And though he wouldn't admit it, a part of him didn't want to leave Echo. Or Prowl. Prowl was still unconscious, and Ratchet had been holding Echo when he left the med bay.

"Want some energon or not?" Hot Rod asked, snapping Springer out of his thoughts.

"Not really," Springer said. "Ratchet has me on medical grade for now, because of Echo, and the fact I got myself shot up."

"Want to go to the rec room?" Hot Rod said, hopeful.

"Nope," Springer said.

"Courtyard?"  
"Can't we just walk?" Springer said.

"Not for long," Hot Rod said. "It's my aft if anything happens to you while we're out. Ratchet said not to push it, and you already are."

"I'm sick of Ratchet," Springer said.

"He's CMO," Hot Rod said. "You're not."

"I know," Springer said. "And you're a Prime, and you can't get him off my back?"

"You saw how well that went yesterday, didn't you?" Hot Rod said.

"I didn't think you had it in you, Rodi," Springer grinned. "I've never seen Hatchet speechless before."

"Neither have I," Hot Rod said. "I thought First Aid was going to glitch when he saw how angry Ratchet was. Not that I can blame him. How is Prowl, anyway?"

"He hasn't woken up since he collapsed," Springer said. "First Aid said he just needed some rest."

"That's good to hear," Hot Rod said. "Hey—have you started to feel bond with Echo yet? Aid told me how she's doing, and said you two should have a bond, it's just taking time to make itself known."

"I'm starting to feel when she's hungry, or happy," Springer said. "Or not so happy."

"That's good isn't it? Right?" Hot Rod asked.

"It means she's getting better," Springer said.

"Have you and Prowl talked?"

"Rodi, cut it with the interrogation, will you?" Springer snapped.

"I'm just wanting to know how you're holding up," Hot Rod retorted.

"How do you think I'm doing?" Springer said. "I'm strapped with a kid, my relationship with Prowl is in ruins, and now I have to try and put it all back together. I'm great."

Springer watched his friend's face harden. "If you don't want Echo, or Prowl, why don't you just tell him? It'll make things easier. You know, you've always been stubborn, but I didn't know you were this selfish. You'd walk away from your own sparkling?"

"Not Echo. I know now I can't, now that I can feel her, I don't think I could live with myself if something happened to her," Springer said.

"What about Prowl?"  
"I don't know," Springer said. "Enough about me. When are you going to decide to do something about Optimus?"

Hot Rod stopped, frowning. "What makes you think I need to do anything?"

"I can see how miserable you are," Springer said. "And somebody would have to be blind to not see how you feel. Take a risk, Rodi."

"You're giving me your blessing?" Hot Rod asked, incredulous.

"Whatever," Springer said. "Rodi, you have a chance to be happy, so why not take it? Quit denying you can have what you want, that's all."

"Look where that got you," Hot Rod said.

"I made a decision I can't take back, and I'm going to do the right thing. I'm going to stick it out. I have to," Springer said. "It's time I grew up. After all, I had a good example, hot shot."

"Me? You've got to be kidding," Hot Rod replied.

"You accepted that the Matrix chose you, and you didn't walk away," Springer said. "I can survive being a parent, and accepting my choice."

Hot Rod vented air, throwing his arms around his friend. "What pair we are," he said.

"I know," Springer said, hugging Hot Rod back. "I hope you're ready to be an uncle. Bet you haven't even thought about that, yet?"

"No," Hot Rod said, letting it sink in. He hadn't considered it, but he already liked the idea. "

88888

Optimus Prime walked into Ratchet's office, sitting down in a chair across from the medic. Ratchet didn't look up, but kept working. "Echo is fine, Springer is out with Hot Rod for a bit, Prowl will wake up eventually, and when he does, I'll take care of it. Anything else I can do for you?"

"I did as you suggested, and tried talking with Hot Rod," Optimus said.

Ratchet frowned, setting down his data pad and stylus. "Tried?"

"He wouldn't talk, just said it was his personal business, nothing important, and you needed to butt out," Optimus said.

"He said that, did he?" Ratchet said, crossing his arms, sitting back. Well, he wasn't going to butt out. He'd fill Optimus in on some of what he needed to know, but he'd have to get the rest out of Hot Rod. The medic was tired of watching them dance around each other, when they needed a good shove.

"Primus knows I'm going to overstep my bounds and break patient-medic confidentiality, but in this case, I believe it needs to be done," Ratchet said. "Hot Rod was fine while he was Prime, he had his issues, but he did well. And then you died a second time. I wasn't back on duty full-time yet, but that's when First Aid came to me and told me Hot Rod was having the nightmares, and it only got worse after your second death. Hot Rod started having nightmares again, episodes so awful he stopped recharging, and then, fluxes. The first occurrence was the worst. . .but. . .

"He's better since you've been back, but he still isn't where he needs to be, no matter how much he denies it, or acts like it. He works himself to exhaustion, and in that respect, Prowl hasn't been a good influence. But there is something you need to take to spark—when Hot Rod was accepted by the Matrix, he was a terrified, innocent kid, fighting the battle of his life. First Aid only came to me about what happened because he didn't know what to do, and I'm telling you, because you need to get it out of Hot Rod. He won't let himself get close to anyone, but I've seen how you look at each other. Now, do me a favor and let me get back to work."

"But. . ."

"The ball's in your court, Prime," Ratchet said.


	9. What We Don't Know

Atonement

Chapter 9—What We Don't Know

Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers. They officially belong to Hasbro and Takara. I'm taking them for a short spin.

Another long day, and Hot Rod settled into his berth, grateful aspects of the day went better than expected. He'd gotten to hold Echo while Prowl and Springer took a little time to talk. They hadn't worked anything out yet, but Hot Rod was optimistic only good would come of it. He even got to talk to Danny, working out a time for the kid to visit. A week away, and Hot Rod had already cleared his schedule. He had that right as Prime, as Optimus and Jazz kept reminding him. He still had duties, but he could work around them. Danny understood, having a father who was Earth's ambassador to Cybertron.

Then his door chime was going off, and Optimus Prime let himself him. The lights came on and Hot Rod rolled into a sitting position.

"I apologize for coming by so late," Optimus said, sitting down beside him on the berth. "I talked with Ratchet, and he told me some things, but I need to hear the rest from you. I know about the nightmares, and the fluxes. Why didn't you tell me?'

"I told you, it was personal," Hot Rod said. "You didn't need to be bothered by my problems."

"We're both Primes, and friends, I assumed," Optimus said.

"We are," Hot Rod answered.

"Then why won't you let anyone get close to you? That's hardly the mech I remember," Optimus said.

"I've changed," Hot Rod said. "I might have well as died, too, when you offlined, and the mech I was died the moment the Matrix chose me."

There. Maybe now Optimus would lay off. Not quite a declaration of his feelings, but close enough.

"The point is, Hot Rod, you didn't die," Optimus said.

"No, but I still have the nightmares, not as bad as before, but they never go away," Hot Rod said.

"I know you were afraid," Optimus said.

"You don't know the half of it," Hot Rod said. "We were inside Unicron. I was separated from the others, and lucky me, I found Galvatron. We fought, but I was no match. He had me pinned, hands around my throat, and for a few moments, I thought he was going to do worse than kill me. Then the Matrix was in my hands, and I was hearing your voice, and everything happened so fast. . ."

Terrified, indeed, Optimus thought, slipping an arm around Hot Rod.

"You were brave," Optimus said. "You didn't falter."

"I was scared to death," Hot Rod said. "And I still don't trust Galvatron. You didn't get to enjoy the full force of his madness. You only had glimpses, then you go and put him in charge on Cybertron."

Optimus didn't say anything, thinking. Galvatron had traumatized Hot Rod, adding to his list of offenses. Personally, that one went right to the top. Even if he hadn't intended on assaulting Hot Rod, the damage was done. Optimus couldn't change that, and he just couldn't kill Galvatron outright. Ironhide also believed it would be a decent solution. The universe probably wouldn't miss him. Neither would Optimus, but he'd placed the Decepticon in a position of trust so he could keep an eye on him.

"Why do you think Magnus is on Cybertron?" Optimus asked, trying to change the subject.

"Because he's fragging Cyclonus," Hot Rod said.

"Don't remind me," Optimus said. "I had hoped at one point we could resume the relationship we once shared."

"Let me see—you or Cyclonus," Hot Rod said. "That's a no-brainer"

"I'm glad to know you think I would be a more suitable choice than Cyclonus," Optimus said, grateful the wry smile on his lips was hidden by his battle mask.

"I think you should leave," Hot Rod said, standing, pulling away from the other mech. "We both have a lot to do tomorrow, and I'd like to get some recharge."

"I'm not going anywhere," Optimus said.

"Don't make me throw you out on your aft," Hot Rod said.

"I'd like to see you try," Optimus said. "Your bravery and defiance are just two of the qualities I admire in you. Unfortunately, you choose the most inopportune times to exhibit both."

Hot Rod sat back down on the berth, putting his head in his hands. He was going to lose this battle, and honestly, did it even matter anymore? He was so worn down trying to deny his feelings, and here, the universe was offering him the opportunity he'd imagined time and again.

"I don't suppose you like the rebellious attitude, bad temper, habit of disappearing?"

"They're part of you also," Optimus said. "Along with your compassion, loyalty, and refusal to give up. All qualities I love about you."

"What?"  
"I wish I'd seen before what I see now," Optimus said. "Possibly things would be different, but we can't change the past. I'm sorry if my feelings are not reciprocated. . ."

"That's where you're wrong," Hot Rod said, moving closer to Optimus, wrapping his arms around the other Prime, pressing himself against his frame. "Completely wrong."


	10. Session

Atonement

Chapter 10-Session

Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers. They officially belong to Hasbro and Takara. I'm taking them for a short spin.

Iacon, Cybertron

Some days Ironhide wondered why he bothered coming back to Cybertron. Well, the most important was Chromia. She wouldn't leave, he couldn't imagine spending anymore time apart. At least he didn't have a political position. His job was helping Kup train new recruits for the planet's civil defense forces, but today, he had a meeting with Ultra Magnus. Apparently he had some news of import to relay. Exactly his words. Ironhide made himself comfortable, well, as comfortable as he could considering it was Magnus's office.

"What's so important you have to see me?" Ironhide said.

"Starscream and Galvatron have been spending a lot of time together recently," Ultra Magnus replied. No point in not getting to the heart of the matter.

"Why tell me?" Ironhide asked, surprised. Usually, the only mechs who wanted his opinion were Optimus or Prowl. Not Magnus, who considered him too rash and temperamental.

"I wanted your advice before I relayed this data to Optimus," Magnus said.

"Why not Kup?" Ironhide pressed.

"SpecOps, think, will not be our best option if matters escalate," Magnus answered. "

"Carpet bomb Vos and Kaon and figure it out later?" Ironhide said.

"Civilian evacuation would be minimal, given the lack of immigrant influx into both regions," Magnus said.

"Mostly security, medical and engineering personnel," Ironhide said.

"I know," Magnus replied. "However, we don't need to destroy two perfectly viable regions to get rid of a pair of problem mechs."

"What does Cyclonus say?" Ironhide asked. "I still don't know how you could choose that. . .Decepticon over Optimus."

Ultra Magnus cycled air, venting it. He did not have to explain that part of his life to Ironhide. It was private. Let others think what they wanted, but it was none of their business.

"I haven't broached the subject with Cyclonus," Magnus said.

"Figure he might switch sides?" Ironhide said, waiting for a reaction.

The quirk in Magnus' expression was all the reaction he received.

"Cyclonus is neutral, and I know where his loyalties lie," Magnus said.

"And you had to frag him to change that, didn't you?"

"My personal life is not up for discussion," Magnus snapped. "You're here to talk about a potential problem."

"Starscream isn't the problem," Ironhide said. "It's Galvatron. You and I both know that. Do you really trust him?"

"I trust Optimus' judgment," Magnus said. "That should be enough for both of us."

Ironhide glared, but didn't say anything.

"Give my regards to Chromia," Magnus said, picking up a data pad, dismissing the other mech. Ironhide walked away, wishing the world would go back to black and white.

88888

Springer sat in Ratchet's chair in the medic's office, staring at Prowl, who was sitting on the other side of the desk. The medic was out in the med bay, working on installing new equipment from Cybertron. Echo was in recharge, and Ratchet had kindly offered the use of his office for the two mechs to "talk," which really meant "get things worked out or I'm taking a wrench to both of you." Springer was starting to take the medic's lectures to heart, but he didn't know how much Prowl was. Like they could talk, but strong emotions, if they started yelling at each other, would upset Echo, and he didn't know how yet to shut off the bond between them. Also not good. She didn't need to feel negative emotion from her carrier, and it would cause more harm than good. And Prowl hadn't even said yet if he was feeling anything from her. The sire-sparkling bond was stronger in bonded pairs, but Ratchet said Prowl should be feeling something. Might as well ask, Springer reflected.

"Have you felt anything from Echo yet?" Springer asked.

Prowl frowned, clearly confused. "What do you mean?"

"You're her sire, there should be a bond there, might be faint, but it should be there," Springer said.

"I don't know," Prowl said.

Springer clamped down on the urge to reach across the desk and throttle Prowl.

"You should feel basic emotions, if she's hungry, or content," Springer said. "Scared the hell out of me the first time I felt it."

"You have a bond with her?" Prowl asked, surprised.

"Carriers and sparklings share a bond," Springer said. "You should, too."

"I guess. . ." Prowl said.

"Either you do or you don't," Springer said. "But considering it's something involving emotion, I wouldn't expect you to owe up to it."

"I didn't recharge for almost four days," Prowl snapped. "During that time, I have to deal with the fact you and the sparkling we created almost died. How am I supposed to react, Springer?"

"Damn it, Prowl, I didn't know. Maybe I did, and I couldn't accept I was sparked. I thought it was a system glitch. . ." Springer said. "The point is, she's here now, and we have to deal with that."

"I was under the impression you weren't going to stick around longer than necessary," Prowl said.

"That changed the instant I felt her through our bond," Springer said. "I can't just leave. Echo needs me."

"You can still request transfer to another assignment when Ratchet says she's strong enough," Prowl said. "Kup could probably use you on Cybertron."

"Prowl, just stop, all right?" Springer said, placing his head in his hands. "Just listen, will you? We have to come to an agreement we can both live with, for Echo's sake. I know salvaging our relationship is probably out of the question, but can we agree to try and get along?"

"I'm willing," Prowl said.


	11. Empty Spaces

Atonement

Chapter 11—Empty Spaces

Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers. They officially belong to Hasbro and Takara. I'm taking them for a short spin.

Prowl sat in the rec room, ignoring his energon. All he really wanted to do was lay his head down and recharge, but ignoring his problems would not make them go away. Echo was doing better, so that was a weight off his shoulders. And saying he was willing to just try and get along with Springer was an outright lie. If he was honest, he could admit he'd been lying to himself the minute he'd started to doubt his conviction in how right he'd been when he decided to terminate his relationship with Springer. Well, they were both at fault in their own way. He didn't have enough faith in himself or the strength of their relationship, didn't think Springer was actually serious. He'd pushed Springer away, and the other mech didn't push back, at least not in the beginning.

Months of being so close, giving way to nothing, and Springer later trying to convince him they were good together. His idea? A spark merge to prove he was serious about being with Prowl, trying to build something together. Prowl knew that night had been Springer's last-ditch effort to try and prove he was serious, but the SIC saw it as an opportunity to get the triple changer out of his system once and for all. Look where that got them both—an unbreakable link in Echo.

Springer's jab at him during their discussion in the med bay earlier was a reflection of their few but explosive fights. The other mech accused him of not feeling anything. He did feel. He just chose not to exhibit his emotions often. Once, he thought caring was a liability. Considering the outcome of his relationship with Springer, the results proved him right. He was emotionally compromised, removed from duty until further notice and his personal life was a wreck.

And he wasn't including Echo. She wasn't one of his regrets. He was going to have to adapt and deal with the consequences of his actions. His life wasn't going to be the same, and Prowl was starting to realize that and accept it. He knew he was a little slower in that respect than Springer, but reality was starting to set in—he was a parent. He'd helped create another life, something he was now responsible for, and it was a staggering thought.

Through his long life, he could count the number of serious relationships and casual liaisons on both hands. He'd let himself get involved with Springer because it felt right. Springer was there for him and willing to listen during a time when others weren't. Not by choice, but because of circumstance. He spent weeks in the med bay enduring the various stages of repair for the injuries sustained during the Decepticon attack on his shuttle. Repairs were followed by recuperation out of the med bay, and that was when he hit bottom. Optimus was dead, there was a new Prime in his place, and he'd been replaced as second in command by Ultra Magnus. Intellectually, Prowl understood that and accepted it. Emotionally, he couldn't cope. He'd lost one of his closest friends, nearly died, lost his place and his way, and no one understood.

Springer understood. They'd never been what Prowl would call friends but that eventually changed during Springer's own extended stay in medical. It was a few months after the battle of Autobot City, and Springer had taken a nearly fatal shot intended for Rodimus Prime. He'd been laid up a few weeks, but his presence in the med bay nearly drove the patient and usually unflappable First Aid to the breaking point. It was during that time when Prowl hit bottom. He wasn't recharging, hardly left his quarters and wouldn't talk during his counseling sessions with the medic. There was no one left to talk with. Jazz was out of the picture, trying to help Kup reestablish order and security on Cybertron. Ratchet, Ironhide and Wheeljack were going through their own healing processes, but Prowl shut himself away. They all still had purpose, but he'd been replaced and, in his own mind, forgotten.

Then Springer broke through his shell, got him talking and interested in life again. And during that time, Prowl came to realize beneath the sarcastic, gruff exterior was an affable mech. And Springer understood. Hot Rod didn't die, but he no longer had the time for his friend. Prowl did have time, so they started spending more time together, and the rest was history. Over and done. But Prowl knew he now had several choices to make. Springer hadn't given up on him, or them. Prowl had. Could he forgive himself enough to try and start over with Springer?  
88888

For once, Optimus Prime didn't mind working late. He had his feet up on his desk, high grade in one hand, a data pad in the other. The stack of unread reports on the desk was dwindling, and Optimus promised himself he'd finish the one in his hand and he was done. The fact Hot Rod was perched on one corner of the desk, sitting in what the humans called "Indian style" helped steel his resolve to finish. Hot Rod was diligently helping go through the data pads, dividing the high priority reports between the two of them and setting the less important ones aside for later. The younger Prime could produce results if he put his mind to it, but Optimus thought they could both use a break.

They were taking on Prowl's work load, which, neglected over the course of almost a week, was considerable. Jazz was helping, but he had his own duties to consider, so the Primes were taking care of it. Maybe Ultra Magnus could spare Kup for a few days to help, Optimus reflected, noticing Hot Rod was no longer looking at the data pad in his hands. Instead, the other Prime was staring. At him.

"Something amiss?" Optimus asked, setting down his data pad, and taking a sip of high grade.

"Nothing," Hot Rod said. "Just thinking."

"About?"

"I can't ever remember seeing you without your battle mask before," Hot Rod said.

"Not once?" Optimus said.

"No," Hot Rod answered.

"I rarely bare my face to others," Optimus said.

"I can see why," Hot Rod said. "It's a nice face."

"Nice" was an understatement. One of the most beautiful faces Hot Rod had ever seen, especially on another mech.

"Ultra Magnus always said my face was a distraction," Optimus said.

"Magnus needs his processor examined," Hot Rod said.

"Jealous?" Optimus asked.

"I can't be jealous of the past," Hot Rod said. "If he chose to take up where you two left off. . ."

Optimus stood, putting his hands on the other mech's shoulders, pressing a kiss to the crest on Hot Rod's helm. "You and I would not have the opportunity that has been placed before us," the Prime finished. "Hot Rod, I think we're done here for the night. We can finish going through these reports tomorrow, and I want to check in on Prowl, and maybe you should go spend some time with Springer before you turn in."

"Good idea," Hot Rod said, getting down from the desk.

"You don't have to work yourself to exhaustion," Optimus said.

"Sure," Hot Rod said.

"We need to set a few things straight between us," Optimus said, hoping Hot Rod got his meaning. They were going to have to try and find a balance between their duties and personal lives. Since the evening they'd admitted their feelings for each other a few days before, they'd done nothing but work. No chance to just talk things out.

"Let me know when you find the time," Hot Rod said, turning to go.

"Tomorrow, after shift. My quarters," Optimus said. "I'll take the meeting with Marissa tomorrow, if you'll sit in on the briefing with the engineering section in the morning."

"I'll take Wheeljack, Hoist and Grapple over the infighting with the EDC," Hot Rod said. "You're a better diplomat than I'll ever be."

"I've learned patience," Optimus said.

"One of your many virtues," Hot Rod said, grinning.

"Give me a chance and I'll show you just how unvirtuous I can be," Optimus said.

"Is that a promise?" Hot Rod asked.

"Yes," Optimus said.

"I hope that's not the high grade talking," Hot Rod said.

"It's not," Optimus said, wrapping his arms around Hot Rod for a moment. "See you tomorrow."

"Yeah," Hot Rod said, loathe to break the embrace. "Good night."


	12. Chapter 12

Atonement

Chapter 12—Bridges I have burned

Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers. They officially belong to Hasbro and Takara. I'm taking them for a short spin.

Prowl entered the med bay, knowing Ratchet wasn't on shift yet. Instead, it was First Aid, just who the second in command wanted to speak with. He had a few questions for the medic, who he knew was glad to oblige when he had time. Prowl hoped he could give him some peace of mind, considering one of the questions he'd been mulling. Sometimes he had the tendency to overthink things when he had too much time on his hands, so he walked into the medic's office.

"First Aid, I hope I'm not bothering you," Prowl said.

"Anyone who comes here isn't a bother, regardless of what Ratchet might say," the medic answered.

"I know he means well," Prowl said. "And Springer and I haven't made it easy for him lately."

"You're in a difficult situation, and you're doing the best you can," First Aid said. "What can I do for you, Prowl?"

He sat down. "I have some questions," Prowl said. Springer said I should feel a bond with Echo. As her carrier, I can understand he would share that with Echo, but I haven't felt anything yet, and I'm beginning to doubt I am her sire."

"You're angry and upset," First Aid said. "That's not going to help. She was premature and underdeveloped. It will take time for a sire-sparkling bond to make itself aware. If you have doubts about her paternity, I can assure you Echo is, indeed your creation."

"How?"

"Ratchet didn't doubt the veracity of Springer's claim, or your reaction to hearing of Echo's existence, but he did run a check of her code against your own," First Aid replied. "The CNA match was to verify we had two viable sources of repair nanites if they're needed. I hope that settles any doubts you might have had."

"More than you know," Prowl said.

"Any other questions I can help with?" First Aid asked.

"When might Springer and Echo be read to leave the med bay?" Prowl said.

"Springer might be ready in another week or two," First Aid said. "But Echo will remain for the foreseeable future, at least until her systems are able to maintain her temperature and other functions without assistance."

"How long will that take?" Prowl asked.

"Ratchet assures me a month, possibly two at the most," First Aid said. "She's stable, Prowl, and doing well. Her appetite has improved, she's growing a little and getting stronger each day. She has a strong spark. She's just small and a little underdeveloped. Echo will stay here so we can monitor her development and make sure there are no setbacks."

"That's good news," Prowl said.

"Ratchet hasn't explained this himself?" First Aid asked, surprised.

"No," Prowl said.

"I apologize, Prowl," First Aid said. "Ratchet has had much to deal with, but that is no justification for not talking with you regarding your daughter's prognosis. Speaking of that, sir, I'd like to ask you a favor. . ."

Prowl raised an optic ridge in surprise. First Aid was always a consummate professional—a calm, compassionate, reassuring mech. "What would you have of me?" he said.

"Sir, I know this is inappropriate, considering the circumstances, but I don't know what to do," First Aid said. "Let me explain. . .Ratchet and I have discussed continuing my medical training on Cybertron. Iacon Medical Center has finally re-opened its teaching program, and Ratchet thinks it's an opportunity I shouldn't pass up. He's supposed to turn in the paperwork to you or Hot Rod, and I'm asking, if he turns in the transfer, could you please refuse it?"

"I'm not on active duty, but I'll pass this on to Optimus or Hot Rod," Prowl said. "But why not go? You've only had training as a field medic, so why not take advantage and learn all you can?"

"I can learn here," First Aid countered. "I helped deliver Echo, and despite the circumstances, it was an amazing experience. She's the first sparkling I've ever seen, but that's beside the point. Hoist and I have discussed this at length—though he's a trained medic, he has his hands full with the city expansion, and Ratchet can't handle all of the city's medical needs on his own. I know for certain two of Ratchet's old colleagues from Iacon, Pharma and Remedy, would like to come here, but I don't if they've made a formal request. Pharma is a trained counselor and was a family specialist. Remedy was a trauma medic before the war. The city would benefit from their experience, and with more qualified medics, we could set up a training program here, so I wouldn't have to leave."

Prowl considered the young mech's idea. It was sound, logical, and potentially beneficial.

"Put together a formal proposal and submit it to Prime," Prowl said.

"That's all I have to do?" First Aid said, surprised.

"It's up to Optimus for the final say, but it's fine idea," Prowl said.

"Thank you," First Aid said.

"Don't thank me yet," Prowl said. "I get the feeling Ratchet isn't going to be pleased about this."

"Probably not," First Aid said. "But he's not getting rid of me that easily."

Prowl knew he was probably going to regret it, and Ratchet was due on shift shortly, but he asked anyway. "Why do you think he wants to 'get rid of you?'"

"Even before Echo, Wheeljack and I had been talking about trying for a sparkling, and when we discussed it with Ratchet, he balked," First Aid said. "He said I need to finish my training before we even seriously consider a sparkling, but I told him human medics in training have families, and they work around it, so why can't we? Ratchet said I need to experience more of life before I tie myself down with an offspring, go to Cybertron, see our home world, that kind of thing."

"Sounds to me like you've made up your mind," Prowl said.

"I have," First Aid said.

"Made up your mind about what?"

Prowl stood, turning around, finding Ratchet glaring.

"Good morning, Ratchet," Prowl said, standing, trying to slide past the medic.

"My aft," Ratchet snapped. "What trouble are you brewing?"

"Nothing," Prowl said. "I just had a few questions for First Aid, and now I'm going to see Springer and Echo."

Ratchet's optics narrowed as he watched Prowl leave his office.

"Suspicion and paranoia, Ratchet? Overworking yourself? I think I'll tell Optimus," Prowl said.

"I'm not overworking myself. I just have too many aft-head patients who aren't compliant," the medic snapped back.

Prowl answered back in Cybertronian, grinning at the Autobot CMO as he picked up Echo.

Springer, who was now awake, watched the exchange with interest. "You, of all bots, should know baiting him is the worst idea in existence," he said.

"He's being an aft, and even though I'm not on active duty, I intend on doing something about it," Prowl said, handing Echo over to Springer. "I have ammunition I can use, and actually do some good in the process."

Springer quirked an optic ridge in interest as he started feeding Echo, who hummed in contentment. "Blackmail?" he asked hopefully.

"Of a sort," Prowl said.

"Still working when you're not supposed to," Springer admonished.

"Not working," Prowl said. "I just have some information to pass on to Optimus, and the rest is in First Aid's hands. It's a good idea, but I won't bore you with the details."

"Blackmail's never boring," Springer said. "Especially when it's one officer blackmailing another."

"It's not like that," Prowl said.

"Sure," Springer said. "What were you talking about with First Aid?"

"Nothing," Prowl said. "But I do owe you an apology."

"What?" Springer asked, clearly confused.

"Just accept it," Prowl said. "Please."

"What are you apologizing for this time?" Springer asked.

"Not believing in you," Prowl said. "Or having enough trust, when it's me that has all the doubt."

There. He'd said some of the truth. He only hoped Springer believed him. And he startled when he felt Springer's hand brush against his own, let the other mech entwine their fingers.

"Apology accepted," Springer said, smiling at Prowl, a glint of his old humor in his optics. Prowl smiled back, his spark fluttering. Maybe, just maybe, there was hope for them after all.

88888

Lookout Mountain, the two Primes watching the sun set. Optimus enjoyed the silence, and Hot Rod's company, but he knew they needed to talk. A little time to unwind was good, considering the day he'd had. He knew the engineering briefing Hot Rod attended went well while his own meeting had devolved into a shouting match between the humans involved. Marissa Fairborned had been one of the few not yelling. However, the other officers with her and the attorneys had not agreed. The humans wanted more of the city than the Autobots were willing to give, wanting bigger quarters for high-ranking human personnel and other supposedly deserved "perks" and even Optimus' legendary patience was tested to its limits. Marissa wasn't the problem. She was only following orders, and Optimus planned on having a meeting with her superiors as soon as he could arrange it. That meeting would go by his terms, not theirs.

Or he could just have Ultra Magnus come handle the negotiations with the EDC. Magnus' dealings had always been on better terms, and he'd taken on that responsibility when he was city commander. Optimus was a diplomat, but he couldn't be everywhere at once. He hated delegating, but with so much going on, Cybertron could do without Magnus for a couple of days. With that settled, he turned his attention to Hot Rod.

"Prowl and Springer seem to be getting along better," Optimus said.

"Yeah," Hot Rod replied. "Spring said they talked today. Really talked, worked some things out. He didn't give me any details, but he seems relieved."

"That's promising," Optimus said.

"They also got some good news," Hot Rod said. "Springer should be out of the med bay inside of two weeks, and Echo can leave when her systems can self-maintain, in about six to eight weeks."

"That is indeed good news," Optimus said, retracting his battle mask, letting Hot Rod see the smile on his face.

"I get to be an uncle," Hot Rod said. "I still can't believe that."

"I don't think Echo will lack for attention," Optimus said.

"Nope," Hot Rod said. "Springer's had a lot of visitors today since Ratchet finally let up a little. He said Mirage and Hound dropped by, along with Cliffjumper, Jazz, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. Blurr, Kup, Arcee and Sandstorm plan on coming too within the next few days, if they can arrange it."

"When they come, you should spend time with them," Optimus said. "I think Jazz and I can manage without you."

"I might," Hot Rod said.

"No, you will," Optimus said.

"OK," Hot Rod said.

Optimus put an arm around the other mech, testing the waters. Hot Rod leaned into him.

"You know, if you and I are going to pursue a relationship, we're going to have to find a balance between our duties and personal lives," Optimus said.

"And how do we do that?" Hot Rod asked.

"We make time for each other," Optimus said. "Like now. I know you probably don't want to rush into anything, but we need to get to know one another as equals, not as we were before."

"Officer and subordinate," Hot Rod said. "Unattainable and out of my reach."

Optimus gave his companion a sidelong glance. "I was never unattainable," he said.

"How was I supposed to know that?" Hot Rod asked.

"I think it's time we stopped dwelling on the past and start thinking about the future," Optimus said. "I mean to court you, if you'll have me."

Hot Rod snorted. "Courting? Like dating, you mean?"

"Courting—as in getting to know each other, letting you know how serious my intentions are, and if things progress as I hope they should, bonding," Optimus said.

"That's serious," Hot Rod said.

"I'll have you know now I do not give lightly of my body or spark," Optimus said.

"I wouldn't expect you to," Hot Rod said. "Offer of courtship accepted, and everything that goes with it. Now can we just not talk for a while?"

Optimus wasn't ready for what came next, Hot Rod kissing him, knocking him over flat on his back with his momentum as he'd thrown himself at the other Prime. Optimus was barely able to register the fact it was a positive thing, Hot Rod showing some of his old bravado. Unexpected, but no unwelcome. But then he heard footsteps, and the sound of someone clearing their throat.

Hot Rod pulled away, and as Optimus was sitting up, he watched as Hot Rod's optics widened, and the other mech transformed and drove away so fast all he left was a could of dust. Optimus stood, seeing Ultra Magnus giving him a strange look.

"Ultra Magnus," Optimus said as he stood. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see what's so important you can't even comm me," Magnus said. "Obviously I've found the source."

"If you're insinuating my personal life is interfering with my duties, you're wrong," Optimus said. "If you'd read the messages I've sent, you'd know there were circumstances here at the city that require my presence."

"Such as?" Magnus demanded.  
"Prowl's been pulled from active duty due to a personal issue requiring his attention," Optimus said. "I decided to stay until things here settle down."

"I suppose it was a breach in protocol?" Magnus asked.

"I'm not discussing this here," Optimus said. "We can talk about it in my office."

He transformed, driving down the mountain back to the city, Magnus following. On the way to his office, Optimus considered postponing their discussion until morning, but decided against it. The Prime was barely seated when Ultra Magnus didn't even give him an opening.

"There's another reason I came," Magnus said. "News you need to hear in person. Ironhide is keeping an eye on the situation while I'm here."

"What situation?" Optimus asked.

"Galvatron. He's been spending a significant amount of time in Vos of late," Magnus said. "With Starscream."

"Is it interfering with Galvatron's duties?" Optimus said.

"Not yet," Magnus answered.

"Then keep me apprised of the situation, and if Galvatron steps out of line, I will deal with it," Optimus said. "Is that all?"

"Yes," Magnus said, standing.

"Before you go, there is something you should know," Optimus said. "Springer's in the med bay. I'm sure he'd like to see you. So would Hot Rod, if you have the time. And Springer. . .he's had a sparkling."

The Prime let that news sink in, watching Magnus' face for a reaction. There was a slight twitching of his frame.

"That's unexpected news," Magnus said. "How is he?"

"Well, considering the circumstances, and Echo, his sparkling, is also doing fine," Optimus said. "He had a femme."

"Would I be wrong in inferring this is the reason Prowl isn't on active duty?" Magnus said.

"Yes," Optimus said.

"Well," Magnus said. "I should go."

"I'm sure Cyclonus misses you," Optimus said.

Magnus frowned, not expecting a barb from his Prime.

"You don't need to disparage my relationship," Magnus said.

"I'm not," Optimus said. "This formality you've adopted in my presence. . .it's unsettling, Magnus. Don't dishonor our friendship, or what we once were to each other. I can accept the choices you've made, but I do regret you didn't agree to try and rekindle what we once had."

"As do I," Magnus said. "But we can't undo the past."

"No," Optimus said.

"I'll be back in a few days," Magnus said. "Daniel asked me to come with him when he visits Hot Rod."

"I'll see you then," Optimus said.

Magnus nodded, leaving the office.


	13. Chapter 13

Atonement

Chapter 13—Standing in the middle

Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers. They officially belong to Hasbro and Takara. I'm taking them for a short spin.

Hot Rod headed to the med bay. He'd commed Springer, wanting to talk. Ratchet popped his head out of his office at the intrusion when he saw him enter.

"Everything all right?" the medic asked.

"Fine, Ratch," Hot Rod said. "Just wanted to see Spring."

"Let me know if you need anything," Ratchet said, withdrawing to the privacy of his office, leaving the other two mechs alone.

"Ultra Magnus was just here," Springer said. "That was a surprise."

"No kidding," Hot Rod said.

"What was he doing here?" Springer asked.

"Hell if I know," Hot Rod said, sitting down by his friend, who was feeding Echo. He peered over the edge of the thermal blanket. "She looks like she's doing better."

"She is, and don't change the subject," Springer said. "You're obviously spooked. What's wrong?"

"I just spent the past hour out joyriding so I wouldn't have to actually talk to Magnus," Hot Rod said.

"So you saw him?" Springer asked.

"For a few seconds," Hot Rod said. "I wasn't in a situation where I really wanted to talk, especially to him."

"Rodi, what happened?" Springer said.

"I was with Optimus, on the mountain. We were talking, and well, I got tired of talking, so. . .Magnus interrupted us."

"So go finish talking to Optimus," Springer said.

"I had Optimus flat on his back, Spring. We were a little busy when Magnus showed," Hot Rod said.

"It's about time, Rodi," Springer said, grinning at his friend.

"Did you not hear the part about Ultra Magnus?" Hot Rod said.

"So he got an optic-full," Springer said. "Maybe he's feeling a twinge of regret or something. He'll get over it."

"Optimus and I are barely past the admitting our feelings stage," Hot Rod hissed, trying to lower his voice so he wouldn't attract Ratchet.

"Magnus had to find out sooner or later. If he gets between you two, he'll answer to me," Springer said.

"Optimus and I cannot catch a break," Hot Rod said. "First Ratchet, now Ultra Magnus."

"Ratchet interrupted you two going at it?" Springer asked, optic brow raised, interested.

"On Prowl's desk the morning we took him off active duty," Hot Rod said. "The door was open, and Ratchet came by. I'm kind of glad he did, though."

"That desk has seen a lot of action," Springer said.

"You'd know," Hot Rod said.

"Hey, all joking aside, I'm just glad you two finally traded paint," Springer said.

"Things haven't exactly gotten that far yet," Hot Rod said.

"Wait—don't tell me you're still not popped," Springer said. "Rodi. . ."

"Don't Rodi me," Hot Rod said.

"Look, if it's a matter of finding a nice, private place, there's a shielded supply closet up on North Spire, Level 7," Springer said. "Command codes are a nice thing."

"I am not getting my seals popped in a supply closet," Hot Rod snapped, voice a little louder than he intended.

Echo warbled at the noise, and Ratchet stuck his head out of his office again.

"You need to learn how to lock a door," Ratchet said. "And did you talk to Optimus?"

"A little," Hot Rod said.

"Did you tell him everything?" Ratchet asked.

"No," Hot Rod said.

"Sparkling, don't make me warn you," Ratchet said. "I'm grateful you two finally admitted your feelings for one another, but good, lasting relationships are built on trust. Just talk to him. You'll feel better when you do, and there is absolutely no reason to rush into anything physical, despite the obvious enthusiasm you two were exhibiting the other day. Hot Rod, I'm not trying to be an aft. I just want you to be happy, and you couldn't have made a better choice than Optimus. Just talk when you're ready, all right?"

"OK," Hot Rod said, watching as Ratchet went back into the office.

"What is he talking about?" Springer said.

"I'll tell you later, Spring," Hot Rod said. "I'm gonna go, OK? See you in the morning."

"'Night," Springer said, watching his friend go.

88888

The comms had arrived late the night before, but Hot Rod was glad he'd bothered to check his messages before turning in. He was waiting at the space bridge for Kup and Blurr, grinned when they appeared out of the halo of light and energy, but his happiness faded when he saw who was behind his friends. Galvatron and Starscream were behind them, and for a moment, Hot Rod considered doing something he wouldn't regret, but Kup's hand on his shoulder kept him from it.

"Rodimus," Galvatron said, walking by, then taking off after Starscream toward the city.

Kup hugged him, and so did Blurr.

"It's good to see you lad," Kup said, looking him over. "I'm sorry it's been so long, but we're up to our optics."

"I know," Hot Rod said.

"Hotroditssogoodtoseeyouhowveyouvebeeniknowdaniels comingtovisitandarceeistooandweregoingtotryandcome backandmagnusisbeinganaftabouteverything. . ."

"Blurr, I'm good. I'm glad to see you, too," Hot Rod said, throwing an arm across his friend's shoulder. "C'mon. Springer's waiting."

88888

Springer was standing by First Aid by Echo's berth while the medic ran a few scans, and adjusted the wires hooked up to the sparkling. Except they both stopped and stared when the med bay doors opened to reveal Galvatron and Starscream. Medic and mech met optics for a few seconds before First Aid found his vocalizer. Being in the presence of the former Decepticon leader and winglord of Vos at the same time was almost more than the timid bot could take, but he managed. He was a professional.

"Lord Galvatron, Starscream, what can I do for you today?" First Aid asked.

"Starscream wished to consult with a medic, and I agreed to accompany him," Galvatron said.

"Let me finish with Echo, and I'll be right with you," First Aid said.

Galvatron edged forward, toward the sparkling berth, surprise etched on his features. Starscream, curious about what surprised Galvatron so much, was astonished to see a sparkling.

"Prime did not tell me a sparkling had been created," Galvatron said.

"Echo was a surprise to us all, including her parents," First Aid said.

Galvatron looked at Springer. "You are her carrier?"

"Yes," Springer said.

"You're more fortunate than you know," Galvatron said, stepping back, almost pained by the look of warmth in Starscream's optics, something he'd never seen before. He was learning every day since beginning his liaison with his former second in command he'd underestimated the Seeker at every turn. It hadn't taken Galvatron much time in reaching the conclusion he didn't deserve Starscream, and if he decided he wanted to end their temporary alliance, he wouldn't blame him.

"I'm done now, and if you two will follow me. . ." First Aid said, gesturing in the direction of one of he exam rooms. Galvatron and Starscream followed, leaving a curious Springer in their wake.

The triple changer gently caressed his daughter's cheek, looking up when he heard the doors slide open, seeing Hot Rod, Kup and Blurr.

Kup grabbed him in a bear hug, Blurr was pounding him on the back and Hot Rod just watched, a smile on his face. His spark felt a little lighter, seeing the mechs he regarded as family all together.

Kup let go of Springer, and turned his attention to the little recharging femme. "So, this is your bitlet," he said. "Springer, she's beautiful, and Echo is a good choice for a name."

"I'll pass that on to Prowl," Springer said.

Kup caught Hot Rod's optics for a moment. Oops. Springer hadn't passed on that piece of information. "Prowl's the sire?"

"Yeah," Springer said.

"Thought you two had called it off," he said.

"We did," Springer said. "Kup, it's complicated, but we're trying to work it out, for Echo's sake."

"Good," Kup said.

"Now, would anybody mind telling me what Galvatron and Starscream are doing here together?" Springer asked.

"They came with us on the space bridge," Kup said.

"They walked in here, scared the hell out of First Aid, and surprised me, and took a look at Echo," Springer said.

Kup felt the flare in Hot Rod's energy field. The kid hated Galvatron, and with good reason, the ancient mech reflected. And he wondered if Hot Rod knew about the amount of time the Lord High Protector was spending with Starscream. He knew because Ironhide had passed it on to him, and he had specops enforcers keeping an eye on things. The last thing they needed was Galvatron trying to make a bid for power, but for the moment, it wasn't his priority.


	14. Chapter 14

Atonement

Chapter 14—Pale

Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers. They officially belong to Hasbro and Takara. I'm taking them for a short spin.

First Aid's hands were shaking as he kept rearranging tools on the table beside the exam berth. He startled, feeling a hand on his shoulder, and didn't shrink back from the fact Galvatron was touching him.

"Medic, put your spark at ease," Galvatron said. "I'm not going to hurt you. Starscream might, considering his current state of mind and well-being. . ."

Galvatron watched, satisfied, as the medic's hands stopped shaking and he picked up a portable medical scanner.

"What are your symptoms, Starscream?" First Aid asked.

"Restlessness, weakness, purging and lethargy," Starscream said.

"He's been purging his tanks for almost three days," Galvatron said. "He refused to see a medic until now."

"The weakness could be caused by the lack of keeping anything down," First Aid said. "Have you been refueling adequately?"

"Trying," Starscream said.

"Is there any possibility you might be carrying?" First Aid asked.

"That is my assumption," Galvatron said. "Considering how many times we've interfaced.

Starscream glared, and Galvatron smirked back at the Seeker.

First Aid made a quick pass over Starscream's frame with the small scanner, and Galvatron felt the spike in the medic's energy field. No longer agitated, but warmth, or something like it.

"His frame density is down .05 percent, compared to the last scan on record," First Aid said. "Let me make a few adjustments. . ."

He recalibrated the scanner, and made another pass over Starscream's spark chamber. His visor brightened as he turned to deliver the good news.

"Congratulations," the medic said. "Starscream is indeed sparked."

First Aid activated the scanner's holoemitter, showing the two mechs a realtime image of Starscream's spark, with a much smaller ball of energy nestled beside it. He zoomed in, making it easier to see a small purple spark next to Starscream's blue. The medic smiled behind his face mask at the way one of Starscream's hands went to the armor over his spark, and how Galvatron twined his fingers with the Seeker's free hand. Miracles, it appeared, did happen.

"It's just a ball of energy for now, and your protoform density is down the small percentage as the newspark starts to cannibalize your frame to build its internals then its own frame," First Aid said. "You'll have to be put on medical grade energon to help with that process, and lessen any damage to your frame during the gestation. Also, Galvatron, as Starscream is a Seeker, he's going to need regular infusions of your nanites and spark energy to help the growth of the sparkling. In other words, lots of interfacing. He doesn't have his trinemates, so you're going to have your work cut out for you."

"What do you mean?" Galvatron asked.

"You had how many Seeker trines under your command in the past?" First Aid asked.

Starscream grinned at the medic, who was clearly glaring behind his visor. "Yes, Galvatron, how many?"

"They were my soldiers. It wasn't necessary to understand their biology or customs in order for them to fight," Galvatron said, backing slowly away from the medic as he noticed he was starting to weigh each of the wrenches in his tool box. Apparently Hatchet had rubbed off on his mate.

"You have Seeker coding, and Starscream is a Seeker, so he's going to need to spend time with other Seekers," First Aid said. "The energy resonance will help the growing sparkling. Seeker trines are coded to assist in the growth and development of new sparks. Call it an evolutionary glitch, I don't know. Find a willing trine, and go from there. The Aerialbots might be willing, or Skyfire. Just ask."

First Aid ignored how Galvatron twitched at the mention of the scientist's name.

"You mean my mate will have to interface with others?"

"No," First Aid said. "Just sharing sleeping space when he feels the need, or cuddling, for lack of a better term.

"There are no Seekers on Cybertron I wish to spend time with," Starscream said.

"Even for the well-being of your sparkling?" Galvatron asked. "This is not negotiable, is it medic?"

"No," First Aid said.

"Sunstorm and Red Wing are stationed in Iacon. Starscream, we've talked about this—we both know you would be much happier in Iacon, with the science division, and you would be closer to me, and better medical facilities," Galvatron said. "You could form a trine. They need a wing mate, as do you."

"I'll consider it," Starscream said. "Who would oversee Vos?"

"Cyclonus," Galvatron said. "The decision is made."

"We'll see," Starscream said.

"Is there anything else, medic?"

"No," First Aid said. "I'll make sure you get some data pads on sparkling care. Will you be seeing Optimus?"

"I will," Galvatron said.

"Good. It will give me time to find the information you require," First Aid said.

"Thank you, medic" Galvatron said. "Starscream, are you coming?"

The Seeker stood, and found himself in Galvatron's arms, and kissed fiercely. He pushed the bigger mech away, who smiled serenely.

"Did I not prove myself worthy as a mate?" Galvatron asked.

"As a sire, nothing more," Starscream said.

"I gave you what you wanted—an offspring, and a chance at joining another trine," Galvatron said. "Replacing what you lost."

"Do you think it's that simple?" Starscream demanded.

"I think you're overwrought with emotion at the fact you're with spark, and I've come through on the promises I made," Galvatron said. "Don't be stubborn. You balk at the chance to claim what is yours? I have made good on your demands, Starscream. Take the opportunity you've been given—an offspring, a bond mate, a chance at happiness, then if not that, contentment? There are no guarantees in this life. We both know that."

Starscream glowered. "I'll consider the move to Iacon," he said. "If you come with me. The Lord High Protector should be in Iacon. That way you can help Ultra Magnus keep Cyclonus in check."

"You fear Cyclonus?" Galvatron asked.

"I'm not afraid of him," Starscream said. "We both know what will happen to anyone who even hints at rekindling conflict."

Galvatron met the Seeker's optics. He'd never told Starscream of Prime's threat. He didn't need to. They were both under watch, just in case. Galvatron had no desire to start another war, considering the personal outcome of the last. Nor did Starscream, who only wanted to go back to the life he once had—the life of a scientist.

"I'll be back by later for those data pads," Galvatron said. "Coming with me to see Prime?"

"No. I'm going to the city's archive. I'll meet you at the bridge when it's time to return home," Starscream said.

They exited the exam room together, and Starscream once again stopped to see the resident sparkling. Galvatron raised an optic ridge when he saw the mech holding the thermal blanket-wrapped bundle—Prowl.

The Lord High Protector watched as Starscream reached out to touch her, but drew back.

"You can hold her, if you like," Prowl said, setting Echo in Starscream's arms.

Springer shot Prowl a look, but the triple changer kept his mouth shut, intelligent enough to know the moment was significant, but not how.

Starscream touched two fingers to the crest on the sparkling's forehead, speaking a few words in ancient Vosian before handing Echo back to her sire.

"I haven't heard that blessing since before the war," Prowl said. "Thank you."

Then First Aid was running over, holding the scanner. "Starscream, it's good you haven't left. You should know. . .there's another spark, smaller, not as strong, probably a few days younger than the other I found first."

Galvatron suddenly felt weak in the knees, and Springer grabbed him by the arm, keeping him from falling face first to the floor. And Starscream was beaming.

"You're a very thorough mech," the Seeker said, taking hold of Galvatron's other arm. "Maybe our offspring will be a playmate to Echo when they're old enough, right Prowl?"

"Of course," the Autobot answered, watching the Seeker drag Cybertron's Lord High Protector from the med bay.

"Does that mean what I think it means?" Springer asked, twitching.

"Starscream is sparked," Prowl said.

"I got that," Springer said. "I'm talking about Starscream and Galvatron's kid as a playmate for ours. That's really going to happen."

"More sparklings is welcome development," Prowl said.

"Primus. . ."

"I expect the two of you will not discuss what you've just heard?" First Aid said.

"What happens in the med bay stays in the med bay," Springer said. "Primus. . .Rodi's gonna flip. . ."

88888

Optimus Prime finished inputting the message he needed to send to Marissa Fairbone, knowing he was keeping his guest waiting. At least First Aid had the forethought to comm him and let him know Galvatron was coming to see him. Done with the message, he sorted through a few data pads before finally turning his attention to the Lord High Protector.

"How are things on Cybertron?" Optimus asked. He and Galvatron were past the point of exchanging pleasantries.

"Well, considering the protests in Altihex and Simfur the past few days," Galvatron said.

Optimus frowned.

"Prime, it's been taken care of. The mechs responsible have been apprehended," Galvatron said.

"What happened?"

"A team of mechs posing as medical personnel stole supplies and energon meant for both cities," Galvatron said. "They also attempted to blackmail the lead Enforcer in Polyhex."

"They were all connected?" Optimus asked.

"As far as anyone can tell," Galvatron said. "Kup wanted to know if we could send one of the gestalts to help keep order."

"Send the Aerialbots," Optimus said. "They're getting bored with routine patrols in Iacon. It'll give them something worthwhile to do. Why didn't Ultra Magnus tell me about this?"

"He's been too busy trying to figure out why I've been spending time with Starscream," Galvatron said.

Optimus sat back in his seat, steepling his fingers, regarding Galvatron.

"I made Starscream an offer of courtship, and we found out this morning his is sparked," Galvatron said. "That isn't all, Prime—he would like to transfer to Iacon to work with the science division, and Starscream thinks my presence there would also be beneficial."

"Congratulations," Optimus said. "And Starscream is correct. I can't be on Cybertron all the time, and having you in Iacon would be an advantage. The council needs to be reminded they exist to carry out the will of the Prime and Lord Protector for the benefit of all Cybertron, not their own interests."

"Maybe we should abolish the council," Galvatron said.

"We need to give it more of a chance first," Optimus said.

"What if they step out of line?"  
"Hopefully we don't have to deal with that," Optimus said. "So. . .you and Starscream. . .it took you two long enough."

"What do you mean?" Galvatron asked.

"Do you know how many bets we had riding on how long you two had been fragging each other?" Optimus said.

"Who won that betting pool?" Galvatron said.

"Apparently I did," Optimus said. "I just need to tell Smokescreen."

"You're going to trivialize my personal life with a bet?" Galvatron said.

"Smokescreen can be discreet," Optimus said. "Never gamble with him. You will lose."

"Prowl's sibling?"

"Yes," Optimus said. "That's going to be quite a pile of credits. . ."

"Maybe you can retire to a tropical island, and take Rodimus with you," Galvatron said, a slight smirk on his lips. Two could play this game.

"What makes you think I have an interest in Hot Rod?"

"The way you look at him, how your energy field spikes when you're in the same room," Galvatron said. "He's your match, Prime. I thought you would have taken him to your berth by now."

Working on it, Optimus thought.

"We're trying to work out things between us," he offered instead.

"You want him or you don't," Galvatron said. "Prime, you'll never get anything you want if you don't act on your desires."

Optimus frowned, and he was tired of being civil. "Hot Rod has nightmares about you," he said. "About what you almost did to him."

"What do you mean?" Galvatron said.

"His fight with you, inside Unicron. Hot Rod said you had him pinned, hands around his neck, and he thought you were going to. . ." Optimus trailed off, unable to bring himself to say it.

"For a moment, Prime, I considered it. But that was not me in control of my body at that moment. It was Unicron, but I fought him off. All I wanted was the Matrix, to destroy my master, be free once more," Galvatron said. "I know nothing I can say or do will ever make up for any of the pain and destruction I caused, the blood on my hands. And for the record, I'm many things, but I've never forced myself on an unwilling mech or femme."

"Your honesty is appreciated," Optimus said. "Let me know if you or Starscream need anything. I assume you'll want First Aid as your attending for the sparkling?"

"Sparklings," Galvatron said. "There are two. I'll have to ask Starscream. First Aid is much calmer than Ratchet, but he is the more experienced medic."

"The pair of them, then," Optimus said.

"I trust them," Galvatron said. "This will be a safe place for Starscream and their emergence. Speaking of Starscream, I need to go drag him out of your archive. You'll be back on Cybertron in a few days?"

"I'll let you know," Optimus said. Galvatron nodded, taking his leave. And Optimus ex-vented, laying his head in his hands. Primus. Galvatron was going to be a sire.


	15. Chapter 15

Atonement

Chapter 15—What I came to deserve

Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers. They officially belong to Hasbro and Takara. I'm taking them for a short spin.

The door to Hot Rod's office wasn't open. It usually was, as part of the Primes' mutual open door policy. Looked like Hot Rod wasn't feeling diplomatic, Optimus mused, coming the other mech to let him in. He entered as the door slid open.

"When were you going to tell me they were here?" Hot Rod asked, not missing a beat, or looking up from the data pad he had in his hands.

"Galvatron and Starscream were here to visit the med bay," Optimus said. "Galvatron and I also discussed matters on Cybertron, if you want to hear about it."

"Can't I read it in a report?" Hot Rod asked, hopeful, setting down his data pad.

"No," Optimus said. "Galvatron and Starscream have been spending time together because they're courting, and Starscream is already sparked."

"I can already guess how this is going to play out," Hot Rod said, bitterness in his voice. "You can bet there will be bots out there saying he's produced an heir to carry on the Decepticon cause."

"They're entitled to their opinion, but it's hardly the truth," Optimus said, taking a seat. "I think it's a true match, Hot Rod. Galvatron and Starscream both know what is at stake if they step out of line."

"What, incarceration on Garrus-9?" Hot Rod asked.

"No," Optimus said. "Hot Rod, let it go for now."

"Why should I?"

"It's not your concern," Optimus snapped.

"It is because I thought I was supposed to be co-leader," Hot Rod said.

"You are, but what happens if Galvatron goes back on his oath is on me," Optimus said. "Why must every discussion we have come back to this?"

"I'm just afraid everything we've fought for will fall apart," Hot Rod said.

"Hot Rod, the peace we've brokered was hard-earned and not as fragile as it seems," Optimus said. "We still have much work to do, but don't let it burden your spark. You're not alone."

Hot Rod sighed. "I know, but I don't want to let you down," he said.

"You haven't, and you won't," Optimus said. "Come. Let's get out of here. I think we've worked enough for one day."

88888

The best part of Optimus Prime's day was the drive with Hot Rod, and watching the sunset at Lookout Mountain. It was becoming a habit, and a good one. The older Prime's current emotional state wasn't what he'd categorize as positive.

As soon has he'd gone back to his quarters for the night, he hit the high grade. Getting overcharged quietly and alone was his way of coping with his former nemesis' impending fatherhood. Optimus didn't begrudge Galvatron happiness, but in the back of his mind, he wondered what was just and right in a universe that granted someone like Galvatron what he'd wanted for himself. Maybe it was a way of teaching his Lord High Protector about what truly mattered.

Optimus told himself he wasn't jealous, and he wasn't that petty. The universe just wasn't fair, and Primus, he was wallowing in self-pity. He didn't often indulge, and Ratchet was always telling him he shouldn't keep his feelings bottled up, and he wasn't. He was expressing his feelings, alone, with high grade. No one needed to witness one of their Primes having a break down. And now Ratchet was comming him, and he ignored the medic's pings, laying his head down on his desk, letting the tears fall.

88888

Ratchet was on night shift, sitting in his office, going over the latest medical journals from Cybertron, trying to catch up. At the same time, he was keeping an optic on Prowl, who was finishing feeding his daughter. The medic allowed himself a smile at the serene look on Prowl's face as he held the sparkling before going back to the article he was reading.

He'd been trying to keep tabs on Optimus all evening, guessing what was coming, considering the day's events and the way his Prime took off with Hot Rod that afternoon. Ratchet knew when Optimus was trying to distract himself, and what usually came after. Of the two current Primes, Optimus was not usually the runner. He faced most everything head on, but Ratchet suspected Optimus was holed up in his quarters, alone. He just wanted to make sure he was all right, and if he needed anything, but the slagger was ignoring him.

Exventing, the medic stood, stepping out of his office.

"Prowl, I'll be back in a few minutes," Ratchet said. "You should go get some recharge. In your quarters. Echo and Springer are fine, and I doubt Springer would care if you left to get some rest."

"I'll stay until you get back," Prowl said.

"All right," Ratchet said, heading for the door.

His walk to Optimus' quarters was short, and of course, the fragger had the door locked, and wouldn't answer him, so he used his command code to override the lock. And the scene greeting him wasn't a surprise—empty high grade containers, and Optimus hunched over his desk, head resting on his arms, shoulders heaving as he sobbed quietly.

Ratchet walked over, placing a hand on his leader's shoulder, shaking gently. Optimus said nothing, instead, moving to wrap his arms around the medic, sinking to the ground.

"It's all right," Ratchet said without any gruffness. "You know you don't have to handle these things alone, Optimus."

A hitch in the other mech's vents was the only answer Ratchet received.

"C'mon. Help me get you over to you berth. I'll be more comfortable than the floor," Ratchet said. "I can stay for a while, if you like, or I can call Hot Rod."

"No," Optimus said. "He doesn't need to see me like this."

"You've seen him like this," Ratchet quipped.

"That's different," Optimus muttered as Ratchet half-dragged him to his berth.

"I don't see how," Ratchet said.

Optimus didn't answer, trying to make himself comfortable in the berth, laying his head in Ratchet's lap.


	16. Chapter 16

Atonement

Chapter 16—Hiding in a lie

Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers. They officially belong to Hasbro and Takara. I'm taking them for a short spin.

Ratchet held his Prime until he fell into recharge. Prowl had commed him after he'd been gone a while, and he'd only said two words to the other mech to let him know what was going on—Prime meltdown. It didn't happen very often, thank Primus. Optimus was strong, had always been, and he rarely showed any weakness, and only to those he trusted most. Only a privileged few had ever earned that honor, Ratchet one of the first besides Ultra Magnus and Elita-1.

Even in recharge, with optics dim and his battle mask covering the rest of his face, there was now no outward sign the Autobot leader was in any distress. The worst was over, Ratchet reflected, and he could probably leave, but he wouldn't yet. He would call Hot Rod when he was ready to leave, and he could sit with Optimus, who had done the same for the younger mech on several occasions. It wouldn't hurt, either, considering they were now seeing each other. Ratchet just hoped the courtship was a short one. He could only do so much as a medic, putting the Primes back together after a battle, getting them to talk and open up, but he was betting they could help each other where he couldn't.

He also wished Galvatron's timing was better. His relationship with Starscream was probably inevitable, as was its outcome, but their news managed to unsettle Optimus. There was no doubt it brought up old memories for the Autobot leader. Optimus never mentioned the incident, and besides himself, only Ratchet and Ultra Magnus knew about it. Elita-1 was gone, and Ratchet knew Optimus had long ago buried that part of his past. The femme was sparked once, but lost the sparkling because she'd been injured in battle. Optimus and Ultra Magnus had been devastated by the news, Prime coming completely undone and the other mech more somber, a change that never left Magnus. Then, not long after, Optimus had watched Elita-1 die in the attack on the Ark, and been separated from Magnus. He knew Optimus had never properly mourned Elita's loss, and Magnus had been emotionally scarred by the loss of both of his mates at the same time.

Fate was cruel, Ratchet thought, remembering the first time he'd laid optics on Optimus Prime. It was after the first full-scale attack on Iacon by the Decepticons, and he'd been one of the first medics on the ground after the attack was over. Iacon's forces won, but it almost cost the life of the newly chosen Prime. Ratchet saved his life, but found out something about the Prime that would haunt him the rest of his days.

While working to save the mech's life, he'd discovered not the spark of a mature adult, but a young spark. The bot he'd saved was a mechling with an immature spark upgraded into an adult frame before he was ready. Ratchet was the first to figure out what Alpha Trion had done to not one youngling, but three.

The following confrontation hadn't satisfied Ratchet, only fueling his anger. Alpha Trion had said it was done out of necessity insisting it wasn't just to save their lives, but to fulfill a purpose. And Optimus Prime had surpassed even his high expectations.

Optimus, of course, lived, but had been passed the Matrix. He'd never broken because his spark was strong. Ratchet couldn't deny that, but he knew Optimus Prime and Hot Rod had more in common than anyone could guess—their youthful innocence taken by the brutality of war. No time to adjust to being an adult, let alone the position and responsibility they both inherited. Maybe they could help make each other whole. They complemented each other—where Optimus was calm and experienced, Hot Rod was brash and inexperienced. Also, Optimus helped smooth Hot Rod's rough edges, tempered his anger and hostility while Hot Rod ruffled Optimus to no end.

With a sigh, Ratchet stood, heading back toward the med bay, but not before comming Hot Rod. The younger mech met him in the corridor.

"He needs you," Ratchet said, stopping when he saw Hot Rod. "Just stay with him. I don't want him to be alone, and I have a shift to complete in the med bay. Call me if you need anything."

"What's wrong with Optimus?" Hot Rod asked.

"Just stay with him, like he's done for you," Ratchet said. "Don't push. Just be there. Think you can handle that?"

Nodding in affirmation, Hot Rod let himself into Optimus' quarters.

88888

Ultra Magnus stood on the balcony of Cyclons's apartment, staring up at the stars. He wondered how Optimus was taking Galvatron's news. He wasn't pleased about it—why did someone like Galvatron deserve such happiness when he and Optimus had lost theirs? He, Optimus and Elita had never bonded, considering it a liability during a war, and once again, a small part of Magnus wished he had. He would've known all that time Optimus was alive, and he'd still be with him now. No changing the past, and he'd made his choice.

He meshed well with Cyclonus, and Magnus was content with the state of their relationship. However, sometimes, he felt it was his obligation to stick it out with the former Decepticon. He had a duty to his Prime and Cybertron, and put the well-being of both before himself. That made him think of one of his old conversations with Optimus, about how he wouldn't be of any use to his Prime if he didn't take care of himself first. Magnus smiled. He did miss Optimus, and again, was content to have his friendship.

Magnus had been happy once, even in the midst of the great war. Even before the war, it was he and Orion Pax against the world, then the two of them and Ariel. Then it was Optimus, Ultra Magnus and Elita-1, and not even the Decepticons could stand before their combined might.

Then he felt the warmth and weight of Cyclonus as he pressed up against him, wrapping his arms around him.

"Thinking about the past?" Cyclonus asked.

"Yes," Magnus said.

"Nothing good comes of it," Cyclonus said. "It's over and done."

Magnus snorted. "You have to have some good memories," he said.

"I do, but what is the point?" Cyclonus said. "We can never go back, reclaim what we once had."

"I know," Magnus said, deciding to change the subject. "Are you prepared to add Vos to your responsibilities?"

"It must be done," Cyclonus said.

Magnus leaned back against him, grateful the other mech was accepting. It would make his job a little easier.


	17. Chapter 17

Atonement

Chapter 17—Little better than yesterday

Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers. They officially belong to Hasbro and Takara. I'm taking them for a short spin.

Optimus Prime woke, not surprised to find himself in his berth. He remembered Ratchet staying with him, and assumed the frame curled next to his own was the medic. He raised himself up slightly, turning on his side, seeing it was Hot Rod, who woke at the movement.

"How long have you been here?" Optimus asked.

"A couple of hours," Hot Rod said. "Ratched called me and suggested I stay with you, so here I am."

"I'm grateful you're here," Optimus said. "I. . .I was just reminded of something from the past today."

"Definitely not a good memory," Hot Rod said.

"No," Optimus said.

"I won't ask, because Ratchet said not to push," Hot Rod said.

"It's good you're following his advice," Optimus said. "Maybe someday I'll tell you, if you'll share with me what Ratchet thinks I need to know."

Hot Rod threw an arm across his middle, moving to lay his head on the bigger mech's chest. The thrum of the other Prime's engine and pulse of his spark were comforting. Maybe it was time to come clean. The humans said a burden shared was a burden halved, and he'd been carrying it around a while. Others might not consider it much of an issue, but the fear and anger he felt was eating away at him.

"Ratchet thinks if I talk about it, I'll feel better, and I should talk to someone I trust," Hot Rod said. "You know about he nightmares and fluxes I was having, thanks to what happened with Galvatron. One night, on Cybertron, it wasn't long after the representatives from the Antar colony reestablished contact because they heard the war was over. We had a reception to welcome them, and I got a little overcharged toward the end, and accompanied one of their enforcers back to his quarters. I don't know what I was thinking. . .but we ended up in the berth, and I don't remember much else besides feeling his hands on my throat, and I freaked. I mean full-on, weapons drawn, screaming for Galvatron to get away from me. I threw him into the wall, and that's how they found us. I'm just lucky the Antar ambassador is one of the most tactful mechs I've ever met. They subdued me, and called First Aid. Now you know why I haven't tried to be. . .close. . .to anyone since."

Optimus was quiet, his grip on Hot Rod tightened.

"Were you afraid of interfacing before?" he asked.

"No," Hot Rod said. "You can't really be afraid of something you've never done."

Then it clicked. OK, Optimus thought. No wonder Ratchet hit him with a wrench. And he was still at a loss for something to say, but Hot Rod saved him from having to say anything.

"Enough with the chick flick stuff," he said. "Can't we just get some rest?"

"Indeed," Optimus murmured.

88888

Ratchet's morning was going well. No irate Primes charging into his office, or stupid injuries. Yet. But First Aid was acting shifty, and Wheeljack was avoiding him. He was going to drag it out of his bond mates later, turning his thoughts to the matter at hand. Prowl was feeding Echo, and the medic finished his scans of Springer.

"Springer, your spark resonance is back to normal, and your internals are healing nicely," Ratchet said. "I'm releasing you from the med bay, but Echo stays."

"Which means so do I," Springer said.

"I figured as much," the medic said. "Except I do have a suggestion—get out of here for a few hours. Go find Hot Rod, take a drive together. Don't overdo it. I want you to try and get back to a little normalcy. Prowl can spend some quality time with Echo without having to worry about both of you. I'm trusting you, so don't abuse that trust."

"Seriously?" Springer said, looking at Prowl for support.

"Go. Now. Three or four hours. Then you get your aft back here to Prowl and your kid," Ratchet said.

Springer leaned over, placing a peck on his daughter's forehead, and squeezed Prowl's shoulder before heading out of the med bay. He felt better than he had in ages.

88888

The urgent comm from Blaster roused Optimus from recharge, along with Hot Rod. The communications expert apologized for waking both Primes, shooting Optimus a quizzical look because of Hot Rod's presence, but he ignored it. Optimus read the data pad Blaster gave him, frowning, before handing it back, and Blaster took that as his sign to leave.

"Hot Rod, I have to go. My presence is required on Cybertron," Optimus said, heading out into the corridor.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I'll fill you in when I return," Optimus said. "Take care of things here. Please."

His entreaty was followed by the retraction of his battle mask, and a fervent kiss that sent Hot Rod grasping for the wall to hold himself up, watching Optimus go, and Springer walking up, looking confused.

"What in the Pit was that all about?" Springer asked.

"I have no idea," Hot Rod said.

"Prime walking away, or that protocol-breaking public display off affection?" Springer said.

"Optimus leaving," Hot Rod said, gathering his wits. "I don't know what's going on. Hey, wait—what are you doing out of the med bay?"

"Ratchet gave me clearance to leave," Springer said. "I have a few hours to myself. Want to go for a drive?"

"You have no idea," Hot Rod said, linking arms with his friend, pulling him down the corridor.


	18. Chapter 18

Atonement

Chapter 18-Suffering

Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers. They officially belong to Hasbro and Takara. I'm taking them for a short spin.

Polyhex, Cybertron

Optimus Prime stood with Galvatron and Jazz, watching Red Alert and a team of Enforcers go over a shuttle sitting on a landing pad at the city's only functional space port. Galvatron kept rubbing at his cannon, lips pursed in a grim line while they listened to Jazz.

"Omnitronian civilian medical transport, crew of four, including the pilot, navigator, two Enforcers and 11 adults and five sparklings. The adults are all dead and there's no signs of the little ones," Jazz said, looking back over his shoulder at the carnage in the passenger compartment. "The supplies and energon are all gone, too."

"Like the other incident, only that was just theft," Galvatron said.

"Whoever is doing this is stepping up their game, if it's the same bunch," Jazz said. "Kup's working on questioning the ones we have in custody right now. Stealing medical supplies and energon is one thing, but killing and taking sparklings. . ."

Optimus felt the spike in Galvatron's energy field, and watched the other mech balling both hands into fists. "Whoever did this won't live to do it again," Galvatron said.

"They must be brought to justice," Optimus said.

Galvatron didn't answer, and Optimus kept his silence. Organized crime was becoming a problem, opportunists looking to fill the niche left behind by the Decepticons. Ultra Magnus and Cyclonus had suspicions one or two members of the Polyhex ruling council might know something about the recent crimes, but they had no hard evidence yet.

And now he was going to have to explain to the Omnitronian High Council what had happened to the bots they'd sent, and the supplies they'd given freely to help rebuild their home world. That council trusted his word as Prime, still believed in what the title meant, if not the mech holding it. He'd handle it, with tact and discretion, as he always tried. He also trusted that Soundwave would help keep the incident off the news feeds until the Enforcers could complete their initial investigation.

"Got a life sign," one the Enforcers yelled, then Jazz was gesturing at Prime, who followed him back inside the transport. The Enforcer, Blindspot, was kneeling by one of the grey bodies, pushing it aside, revealing a flash of color.

"Those butchers missed one," Blindspot said, standing, holding a little red and silver mech in his arms. His color was faded, and he whistled, the sound weak, and he was in obvious distress.

Jazz took the sparkling from Blindspot, handing him over to Optimus, who shot the specops mech a look. "You better get him out of here," Jazz said.

"Jazz, your or Kup should take charge of this bitlet," Optimus said.

"I've got to stay here, and he's got nobody," Jazz said. "Besides, you know what kind of mess it'll cause with the council."

"I concur," Galvatron said. "The refugee processing center is nearby, and they have several medics stationed there."

"They're good medics, but they don't have the facilities to deal with a fading sparkling," Jazz said. "The Trion isn't far away on patrol, and they can be here in a few minutes. One orbital bounce away from having that little guy in Iacon."

"Do it," Optimus said, turning to Galvatron.

"You'll help Jazz finish up here?" Optimus asked.

"Yes," Galvatron said. "Cyclonus and Ultra Magnus are going to have their hands full with the council when they hear what happened."

"Which is why I'll deal with them later," Optimus said. "They know their powers and their limitations. If they don't, they will be reminded.

Jazz grinned, knowing Optimus would set one of the Enforcer advocates on them, reminding the council of the laws and protocols regarding their duties and powers. If that didn't suffice, they had a couple of magistrates willing to do the same, only not so politely.

"Trion's within orbital jump range," Jazz said.

Optimus cradled the little red and silver mech in his arms, willing him to live until they reached Iacon.

88888

Prowl was catnapping, curled on his side, Echo recharging in her own berth next to his. The second in command was relaxed, resting easy for the first time in a long time, until he felt a slight impression of what felt like annoyance tinged with hunger. Then Echo was whistling, letting him know he was hungry. He shot off the berth, to his daughter's side, causing Ratchet to stick his head out of his office.

"Are you all right?"

"Fine, I think," Prowl said. "I think I just felt Echo through our bond."

"About time," Ratche said. "You've been so wound up you'd be lucky to be feeling anything from your bond mate, if you had one, let alone a sparkling. And this is good news. If Echo keeps doing as well as she has, she'll be out of here by the end of the week."

"Really?" Prowl asked, picking her up, extending a line so she could feed.

"Really," Ratchet said, coming over. "She's eating well, recharging, growing, and you and Springer have the beginnings of a routine. It'll take time, but I think the three of you are going to make it."

"I'm glad you think so," Prowl said.

"You two need to keep up what you're doing," Ratchet said. "Support and trust each other, and love and nurture Echo. It's not difficult."

"But. . ."

"I'm not talking about bonding," Ratchet said. "You've established a system, that for now, works. Do. Not. Break. It. You will answer to me. Have you two even talked about what's going to happen when Echo is released?"

"Not really," Prowl said. "I've been thinking about asking Springer if he and Echo could stay with me. I have enough room, and it makes sense."

"If you present it to Springer that way, he might say yes," Ratchet said. "Are you sure that's what you want?"

"Echo needs both of us," Prowl said.

"No kidding, sparky," Ratchet said, quirking his lips up in a smile. "You can quote facts, Prowl, but what do you want?"

88888

The orbital bounce from the Trion placed Optimus and the sparkling in one of the emergency bays of the Iacon Medical Center. He had only a few moments to wait before he was set upon by a medic, a silver, blue and white Praxian.

"I'm Remedy, I'll be your medic," he said. "Jazz asked specifically for me, so I know something of what's going on. Prime, you're lucky I'm available because we're having an. . .uneventful night so far. Now, let me see the patient."

Optimus held out the sparkling, and Remedy took him, placing him on a berth, transforming his own hand into a scanner. "Do you give me permission to save this sparkling?" the medic asked, sparing Optimus a glance.

"Yes," Optimus said.

"Jazz said the parents are both dead, correct?" Remedy said.

"Yes," Optimus answered.

"I'm going to have to work fast, so don't mind me," Remedy said, turning toward the Autobot leader. He reached up towards Optimus' neck, but he batted the medic's hands away. Without warning, the medic forced him to sit, suddenly driving a needle into one of the energon lines in Optimus' neck. Turning back to the sparkling, injected its contents into the same spot on the sparkling. Running a quick scan, the medic smiled at no one, pleased with himself as he set up the necessary supplies to start an energon infusion for the sparkling.

"What did you do?"

"Saved his life, I think," Remedy said. "He's new enough it should work. It's not often done, but it's been successful in preventing stasis lock 89.675 percent of the documented cases."

"Meaning?" Optimus asked.

"He'll need another infusion from you—more than just nanites this time," Remedy said. "Hopefully his body will accept your nanites, and they'll do their magic, convincing his systems to integrate your coding into his. Fine-tuning the spark resonances will take a day or two if you're game, but at this point, I think it's the best option."

"What?"

The medic stopped what he was doing, only for an instant, to give him a scathing look, but went back to starting the energon infusion. "This sparkling just lost his sire and creator, his bonds with both severed. I've stopped the stasis lock for now, and I can almost guarantee his survival if you let me do what I need to do, and that involves creating a bond between you and mechling here. I'd do it myself, but I'm already carrying, so you're it. I've already begun the process, so if you're having second thoughts, it's more than a little late."

Optimus sat back, crossing his arms, watching the medic work, considering it probably wasn't a good idea to cross a medic.


	19. Chapter 19

Atonement

Chapter 19—High voltage

Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers. They officially belong to Hasbro and Takara. I'm taking them for a short spin.

Vos, Cybertron

Galvatron found Starscream in recharge, but he wasn't alone. Another Seeker, Galvatron recognized as Red Wing, sat on the edge of the berth.

"I've been guarding him," Red Wing said. "He refused to return to Iacon with me."

"I'll talk with him in the morning," Galvatron said. "Go back to Iacon. I imagine you're needed there, with the potential for unrest after what happened today."

Red Wing stood, nodding. "Starscream would be safer in Iacon, or on Earth. "I don't want to lose another wingmate."

"You won't," Galvatron said. "You have my word."

The Seeker raised an eyebrow in disbelief at that, and Galvatron watched as he walked to the balcony, flying off into the night.

Finally alone with his mate, the Lord High Protector laid down beside Starscream.

"'Bout time you returned," Starscream quipped.

"Now isn't the time for your wit, Starscream," Galvatron warned.

"You can't fault me for trying. Much," the Seeker said. "Did the investigation yield any useful information so far?"

"The Enforcers have several promising leads, but it will take time," Galvatron said.

"That's what Ultra Magnus said during his address to the High Council," Starscream said. "It was quite amusing to watch some of the council members gaping like Earth fish out of water while Magnus talked. I think some of them don't like being reminded they're not on the council for their own benefit."

"Who?" Galvatron asked.

"Gauntlet and Xenon," Starscream said. "But if you're thinking they could be connected to what happened in Polyex, you're probably wrong, however, it might be worth looking into."

"Do you know something I don't?" Galvatron asked.

"I think those two dolts were more impressed with the fact they were getting a show of Ultra Magnus being Ultra Magnus, all noble and stoic and showing off his knowledge of the Tyrest Accords and reminding them he is their enforcer," Starscream said. "And he said Optimus was unavailable. What was that about?"

"We recovered one of the sparklings," Galvatron said. "Optimus took it to the medical center and he stayed with it. I think he's going to end up becoming its caregiver."

"It'll be good for him if he does," Starscream said. "I'm surprised he hasn't sparked up that aft-head Hot Rod yet."

"Why do you say that?"

"Have you seen the way they look at each other? Optimus isn't very good at hiding his feelings, or at least how he feels about that brat," Starscream said.

"They've finally admitted there is something between them," Galvatron said.

"Good," Starscream said.

"You approve?"

"Why wouldn't I? Who Prime frags is his business," Starscream said.

"Speaking of business, I think setting up quarters in Iacon should be our priority tomorrow," Galvatron said.

"Skyfire said the Promontory still has space," Starscream said.

"We should stay at the Citadel," Galvatron replied.

"No. I know what you're thinking, and having the Lord High Protector isolating himself behind the walls of a former military installation will not well with the population, considering the unrest over what happened today," Starscream said. "And no matter I go, you can't keep me completely safe."

"I could send you to Earth," Galvatron said.

"I need you and you need me," Starscream said. "I'll have Sunstorm and Red Wing also."

"You could take them to Earth with you," Galvatron said. "You need to initiate the trine bond as soon as possible, and you would be safer on Earth."

"Can't we finish this discussion in the morning?" Starscream asked. "Please?"

"Yes," Galvatron said, smiling to himself when Starscream settled closer to him.

88888

Hot Rod sat in his office, waiting for Blaster to patch Optimus through to his terminal. He was relieved to see Optimus looked fine, but the look in his optics showed how weary he was.

"Hot Rod, I'm going to have to stay here for a few days," Optimus said. "I'm currently at the medical center, and there's a. . .situation I'm dealing with that requires my attention."

"Beyond what happened in Polyhex?" Hot Rod asked. "Are you all right? Is it Jazz, or Kup?"

"No," Optimus said. "I'm fine, I just need to get some rest, and Jazz and Kup are unhurt. How is everything there?"

"The EDC higher ups are on my aft, wanting to know if they need to recall their personnel on Cybertron until things cool down, and I've got a little good news—Springer's been released from the med bay, and Echo will be out by the end of the week."

Hot Rod was grateful Optimus' optics brightened a little at that news.

"I'm glad to hear it," Optimus said. "As I said, I'll be back in a few days, and I'll explain everything then."

"OK," Hot Rod said. "See you then."

Optimus nodded, and the transmission ended; Hot Rod sighed, going back to work. He'd just have to trust Optimus.

88888

Optimus spent an uncomfortable night with the sparkling in the critical care unit, drifting between bouts of worry about the tiny little life he'd been entrusted with, and nightmare-filled fitful recharge. He'd watched the news feed of Ultra Magnus' address of the High Council, and he owed his friend for running interference for him. After that, he'd contacted the Omnitronian High Council, offering his condolences, and told them they were doing what the could to find who had attacked the transport.

Expecting anger, he was met with an offer of assistance. It was more than he could have hoped for, and he accepted it. He was also surprised they didn't want back the rescued sparkling. Their reasoning was he was safe, and would be well cared for, and if the others were found, the Prime had their blessing to find worthy caretakers for the others, as it was the will of Primus, and as Matrix-bearer, he would understand. He did. He was just too exhausted to consider it at the moment, watching Remedy talk with Flero, the medic who cared for the sparkling overnight.

A few moments later, the medic approached him.

"Long night, I bet," Remedy said. "You can come see him, if you like. He's stable, so you've got nothing to worry about right now."

"Yesterday you said you're going to have to create a bond between us. How will you accomplish that?" Optimus asked.

"A hard-line connection between you both, and your nanites rewriting some of his code," Remedy said. "It'll take time and patience. I've done this before. I know you're used to Ratchet, but he's not here, and I'm what you've got. How is ol' Hatchet anyway?"

"You know Ratchet?"

"Know him? We were in the same class at the academy," Remedy said. "The parties he used to throw. . ." He trailed off, seeing the look of disbelief in the Prime's optics. "You don't believe me? Just ask him. His parties were legendary, and part of the only reason why a bunch of us survived our training. Flatline, our mentor, pushed us so hard, but that's a tale for another time. I heard Hatchet's respectable now, CMO of the Autobot forces, and he's gone and got himself bonded to Wheeljack. Like nobody saw that coming."

"Hatchet? I thought that was something the Decepticons called him," Optimus said.

"He earned that name during his residency here," Rememdy said, optics sparkling with mirth at the memory. "One night we were up to our optics with patients from a huge brawl at Maccadam's that spilled out into the streets. One of the High Council members, who I won't name, was slumming it that night, and ended up in here, leg hanging off, two of his staff members holding him up, while he's screaming about how important he is, and how he shouldn't have to wait for treatment. Ratchet was at the end of a two-megacycle shift, and he'd had it. He has the bots place the council member on a berth, grabs a hatchet, which we'd use for amputations, chops off the bad part of his leg, says 'no charge' and goes back to what he was doing."

"Do you know how many of my troops were terrified of him, and still are?" Optimus asked. "Of course, it's only if you make him angry."

"I look forward to seeing him," Remedy said, dragging Optimus toward the sparkling berth. "Hold him, will you? You two are going to be spending a lot of time together from now on, so it's time you get used to each other. I'm going to go get you some energon, and more for his energon. I'll be back in few minutes."

The medic clapped him on the shoulder, and Optimus picked up the mechling. "Bitlet, what have I gotten us into?" he mused.


	20. Chapter 20

Atonement

Chapter 20-Weighted

Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers. They officially belong to Hasbro and Takara. I'm taking them for a short spin.

Hot Rod checked his terminal for any new messages, hopeful for word from Optimus, but he received none. The only important message was one from Ultra Magnus, letting him know Ratchet's request for First Aid to enter the training program at Iacon Medical Center was approved. Hot Rod copied the paperwork from the med center to a data pad, intending to take it to First Aid. He knew the medic's feelings on the matter, as Prowl had discussed it with him, and outlined their proposal to bring medics from Cybertron to Earth. Hot Rod thought it was a good idea, and passed it on to Ultra Magnus, who was finalizing the details. Steeling himself for the coming confrontation, Hot Rod headed for First Aid's quarters.

And the medic's reaction to his appearance was what he expected—wariness. He could feel the uncertainty coming off First Aid as he entered the room.

"I hope this is good news about the proposal I submitted," First Aid said.

"Not exactly," Hot Rod answered. "But Ultra Magnus is working on it."

"That fast?"  
"Yeah," Hot Rod said with a smile. "He let me know the pair you recommended, Remedy and Pharma, are interested in coming, the sooner the better. Now for my other news."

"What is it?" First Aid asked.

"Ratchet's request for you to go to Cybertron was approved," Hot Rod said, handing his data pad to the medic.

"How did he sneak it past you?" First Aid said.

"I don't know," Hot Rod said. "It's Rachet, and he has his ways. Maybe he bypassed Prowl and I, and went straight for Optimus, but at least he'd ask before passing on the request."

"Ratchet probably bulled Prime, and got him to bend," First Aid muttered.

Hot Rod let the comment slide. "You can stay here. It's not an order," he said.

"I don't want to go, and Ratchet knows that," First Aid said. "He didn't even ask, he just made the decision for me."

"Aid, that's between you and Ratchet," Hot Rod said. "I'm sorry."

"I know," First Aid said. "Thanks for letting me know about the other medics, though. It's good news."

"Yeah, about that—does Ratchet know?"

"Not yet," First Aid said.

Great, Hot Rod thought. More fun with CMO, but it would likely take weeks before the other medics were ready to come to Earth, so he wouldn't have to worry about it.

"Let me know if there's anything I can do," Hot Rod said.

"I will," First Aid said. "Thanks."

88888

Optimus Prime came online, remembering he was in Iacon, at the medical center. And he felt the presence of another awareness brushing up against his own, almost like a whisper. It was tired, and straightaway it demanded to be fed, the wailing almost more than he could bear.

He sat up, watching Remedy pick up the sparkling, offering an energon line for him to feed.

"I've got it this time, Prime," Remedy said. "I can tell the bonding took, from the look in your optics. It'll get stronger, but I can't tell you by how much. He's yours now, and no changing it. Another day, just to make sure everything's fine, and he can be dismissed. I'll have to online your feeding protocols, and explain a few things, but you'll be good to go. Any questions?"

"No," Optimus said. "Not yet."

"Wait until you get him home, and you'll have plenty," Remedy said. "Jazz wanted me to pass along a message—you need to get to Polyhex as soon as you can. I brought you back online as soon as I could, but I can only deal with the problem in front of me. And don't worry, your bitlet will be safe here. I go off shift in a couple of hours, but Flero's on next, so go."

Optimus caressed the sparkling's helm, walking away.

88888

Ratchet had the med bay to himself, with the exception of Echo, who was in recharge, Prowl and Springer having gone to refuel. He was recalibrating all the medical scanners, busy work, to keep his mind off how well the day wasn't going. He knew Wheeljack was angry with him, because he was shutting him out through their bond, with the exception of the time he'd spent. . .comforting First Aid earlier that afternoon, and the other medic was also trying to shut him out, but without much success.

They'd been bonded less than a year, but Wheeljack was the most proficient at using their bond. Maybe he just understood the quantum mechanics of a bond, or he had better control over his emotions. Either way, the shutting him out was just the current way of letting him know how he was feeling. Before the bond, it was not talking, and Wheeljack could talk when he wanted. And when he walked into the med bay, Ratchet was nearly knocked down by the full brunt of their open bond, and the anger emanating from his bonded's energy field.

"You just had to go and do it, didn't you?" Wheeljack asked, throwing a data pad down in front of Ratchet.

"To what are you referring this time?" Ratchet asked.

"You know damn well," Wheeljack said. ""First Aid isn't going anywhere. He doesn't want to go to Cybertron. Maybe you need to go instead. All you do is work, you hardly spend any time with us anymore."

"As chief medical officer, I have responsibilities," Ratchet said. "As First Aid's immediate superior, it's my duty to make sure he receives the best training possible."

"Ratch, he can get that here," Wheeljack said. "But that's not the point. "You didn't ask him about it, or me—you made the decision for us. Got anything to say for yourself?"

"I'm busy, and you'll wake Echo," Ratchet said.

"I know Hot Spot dropped by," Wheeljack said. "And Hot Rod said he wouldn't do a damn thing if Hot Spot lays a hand on you."

"Nice to know you're worried about my well-being," Ratchet quipped.

"If you want to get yourself thrown through a wall by our mate's angry brother, that's your choice," Wheeljack said. "The situation is of your own making."

"I thought it would be a good opportunity for Aid," Ratchet said, standing, setting down his tools, and picking up the data pad.

"It might be, but he flat-out does not want to go," Wheeljack said. "Like I said, maybe you should go. Work a rotation at the medical center, or run a few patrols with one of the tactical units. You've never done that before. Or I'll go."

"And do what? Where would you stay?"

"Ultra Magnus said they need help in Iacon, doing an engineering study on the tunnels, and they're going to conduct a search for Shockwave's energy stores," he said. "I still have my workshop. It wasn't hurt in Unicron's attack, and I can stay there. Or I bet Skyfire and Perceptor wouldn't mind if I bunk with them."

"Are you that bored here?" Ratchet said.

"No," Wheeljack said. "It's not about being bored. It's about being useful, or content, even happy. Ratch, I thought we were happy. I am, but I don't think you are, or you wouldn't be acting this way."

"Can we finish this later, when I'm off duty?" Ratchet asked.

Wheeljack vented a sigh, turning around, walking out of the med bay.


	21. Chapter 21

Atonement

Chapter 21-Conflict

Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers. They officially belong to Hasbro and Takara. I'm taking them for a short spin.

Polyhex, Cybertron

Jazz clenched and unclenched his hands, energy field unchecked as he watched Prime and Lord Protector question the suspect through the one-way glass of the interrogation room. He itched to get in there, spend a little quality time with the mech if he didn't spill. Bot wasn't talking yet, but Galvatron looked like he wanted to carve it out of him piece by piece. Optimus stood with arms crossed, head tilted forward, battle mask in place as always, optics unreadable until he turned, walked out the door, joining the Jazz.

"Get anything useful out of him?" Jazz said.

"He swears the sparklings were brought to his location two days ago, and his orders were to keep them alive, no more no less, until they would be removed from his custody," Optimus said. "Then he was free to go. However, the femme in his possession was failing, and if any of the sparklings died, no payment, and he would probably be terminated, also, so he brought her and the mechling to the refugee center, hoping for the best."

"Anything else?"

"He's all yours," Optimus said, walking away, Galvatron following.

"What do we do now?" he asked.

"I wish I knew," Optimus said. "Were the other two sparklings retrieved?"

"Yes," Galvatron answered. "They're mech split-spark twins, and they seem to be fine, according to Kup, but as we know, he's no expert. The other two, the femme and mech brought to the refugee center, not as well. They're on the Trion now, in the med bay, on their way to Iacon."

"Primus, this is such a mess," Optimus said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "At least we have a few leads to go on now, but we need to put an end to this as quickly as possible."

"I want to get my hands on whoever decided it's a good idea to sell sparklings to the highest bidder," Galvatron said. "They don't deserve justice."

"I know," Optimus said. "Justice has to be served. We can't risk the populace's unrest becoming full-out conflict. We both know this better than anyone, Galvatron. Go home to Starscream. I need to get back to Iacon myself. I'll talk to the council tomorrow, if I must. I think an appearance by both of us is not out of the question."

"I agree," Galvatron said, surprising docile at the suggestion. "They do need to be reminded of what is at stake. You do need to get back to your foundling, and I have a suggestion. Don't keep calling him 'bitlet.' I think 'scraplet' is appropriate until you come up with a suitable designation."

"Scraplet?" Optimus asked, incredulous.

"Any sparkling raised by you is going to be a handful," Galvatron said. "I'll be sure to look to you for guidance in how to avoid future mistakes of my own when my twins are born."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Optimus said.

"We're both getting second chances we probably don't deserve," Galvatron said. "I'm going to enjoy mine as long as it lasts, and I advise you to do the same. Except the fighting never stops, does it?"

"No," Optimus answered. "All that changes is the battlefield."

88888

Prowl watched Springer with Echo as the triple changer walked around the med bay, pointing out different things to their daughter. It was notable for two reasons—Echo was free of every monitor but two, which were portable and strapped to her frame, and she no longer required an energon drip. The second reason was the ease with which Springer handled Echo, and the happiness on his face. That made Prowl smile, and Springer caught him staring.

"What's got you so goofy happy?" Springer asked, walking over, taking a seat beside Prowl.

"Watching you two together," Prowl said. "To be honest, I didn't think we'd make it this far."

"Sheer dumb luck I think," Springer said. "I can't believe Ratchet is letting her go in a couple of days. Where in my quarters am I going to put her?"

"I've been thinking," Prowl said.

"About?" Springer asked, giving Prowl a sidelong look.

"The two of you could come stay with me," Prowl said. "I have more room, my quarters are two doors down from Hot Rod, so you'll be close to your best friend, and Ratchet, of course."  
"The room is tempting," Springer said. "By the way, nice logical thinking, but do you really want us sharing quarters?"

"It's not just for Echo I suggested it," Prowl said. "She needs both of us."

He didn't add the part he was thinking, that he and Springer needed each other, but that was a discussion for another time.

"What do you think?" Prowl asked.

"I think it's a good idea," Springer said, leaning against the other mech, who threw his arm around his shoulder.

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Iacon

Standing on the landing pad beside a shuttle gave Optimus Prime a sense of déjà vu he wished would go away. He was half-listening to Ultra Magnus, who was unaware of his Prime slowly inching back toward the shuttle so he could board. Apparently Remedy thought going through a space bridge with three sparklings in tow was a bad idea, so Optimus was volunteered to fly a shuttle back to Autobot City.

And he had passengers besides his bitlet and the twins, who were stable enough to make the journey. Remedy, his bond mate Pharma, and their first creation, Silverlight, were accompanying him to Earth. If only he could get away from Magnus.

"Magnus, you don't have to detail every little thing that happened with the council before I arrived. I'm sorry I was late this morning," Optimus said.

"You have many responsibilities, and the council needs to understand that," Magnus said.

"It will take time," Optimus said. "Magnus, I don't want to cut this short, but we're backing up the flight line."

Ultra Magnus threw his arms around him, burying his face his neck, holding him tight a few moments, reluctant to let go when he did.

"Take care," Magnus said.

"I can only try," Optimus answered, clasping Magnus' hand. "I'll be back in a few days."

"See you then."

Watching Optimus board the shuttle, Magnus waited until it took off to leave. Sighing, he turned around, heading for his own transport. He had a meeting to attend, and rebuilding Cybertron wouldn't wait.


	22. Chapter 22

Atonement

Chapter 22-Bruised

Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers. They officially belong to Hasbro and Takara. I'm taking them for a short spin.

Ratchet stuck his head out of his office, optic ridge raised, hearing the doors open, and more than surprised at seeing his Prime enter willingly. Tilting his head, he zeroed in on the bundle in his Prime's arms. All but bounding over, Ratchet tried keeping his curiosity in check.

"What have you gone and done now?" Ratchet asked, pulling back the corner of the thermal blanket. He frowned, looking from sparkling to Prime. "Where did you get this? Prime, you can't just steal a sparkling. It's not like an orphaned turbofox kit. . ."

"His creators were killed in the attack at Polyhex. I assume you've heard what happened there?" Optimus said. "He is my responsibility now."

"You probably let somebody railroad you, didn't you? It was the council, wasn't it?" Ratchet said.

"Stow it, Ratchet," Optimus said. "I didn't come for a lecture. I need your help. Remedy onlined my feeding protocols, but I don't think it's working. Bitlet won't feed much, and when he does, his intake is very low."

"Sit. Now," Ratchet said. "Have you been refueling with medical grade energon?"

"Yes," Optimus said as Ratchet made a hard line connection. He watched as the medic's optics dimmed for several minutes, then he disconnected, coming back to himself.

"That aft-head Remedy didn't take down the firewalls to fully activate the protocols," Ratchet said. "You shouldn't have any problems now. Come see me if you do. Where did you meet Remedy anyway?"

"Iacon Medical Center," Optimus said. "He saved bitlet."

"I hope you're going to give him a decent designation," Ratchet said.

"I will," Optimus said. "That's not all. Remedy and his mate, Pharma, accompanied me on my trip. They're here, and are going to start helping out here when they get settled in."

"Thanks for asking for my input," Ratchet snapped.

"You need help," Optimus said. "You and First Aid can't handle the workload alone, and they were willing to come. If you wish to discuss this at length, we can later. Tomorrow, first thing. Except that isn't all I have to say. I brought two more of the sparklings from Polyhex, split-spark twins, mechs. I'm placing them in your care. You and Wheeljack have experience raising twins, and I have no doubt First Aid will be a wonderful caretaker."

"I don't have a choice, do I?" Ratchet asked.

"Not unless you want to defy the will of your Prime, Lord High Protector and the ruling council of Iacon as well as the High Council of Omnitron," Optimus said.

"Where are they?" Ratchet said.

"With Blaster, Pharma and Remedy in the rec room," Optimus said. "Go see them. Ratchet, they need someone, just like Sideswipe and Sunstreaker did all those vorns ago."

"No promises," Ratchet said, exiting the med bay, leaving Optimus alone.

88888

Hot Rod was finishing up a few loose ends in his office, glad to be caught up. Prowl was given permission by Ratchet to work a couple of hours a day, which helped further reduce the workload the Primes had been toiling their way through. He'd also missed Optimus' shuttle landing because of a meeting, and he wasn't surprised when the other mech showed up in his office. Nothing unusual in that occurrence, but Hot Rod was drawn up short going to greet the other Prime because of the bundle in his arms.

"You haven't talked to Ratchet, have you?" Optimus asked.

"No," Hot Rod said. "What is going on, and what is that?"

Optimus looked down the sparkling, where Hot Rod was pointing. "My latest responsibility," the Autobot leader said, pulling back the blanket, offering the bundle to Hot Rod, whose optics widened.

"One of the sparklings from Polyhex?" he asked.

"Yes," Optimus said. "He was dying, and I couldn't let that happen. The medical bonding took, and now I'm not quite sure what to do next." Hot Rod backed up until he felt his desk, sitting down on the edge.

"Talk about a complication," he said. "How are you going to handle going back and forth from Cybertron? Take him with you?"  
"I haven't gotten that far," Optimus said. "I'll understand if you decide not to continue pursuing a relationship with me, as this could impede our progress."

"Stop right there," Hot Rod said. "It's a complication. We'll deal, like we always have."

88888

Ratchet was wise enough to recognize when he was being railroaded, guilted into doing something. Probably divine retribution for his recent behavior, if you believed in that sort of thing. Optimus Prime was a devious bastard, knowing he wouldn't say no to his request, more like Prime decree. He was seething over not being asked, but again, he deserved it. And once he laid eyes on the sparklings, he knew he couldn't say no.

He found them in the rec room with Blaster, Pharma and Remedy, happily whistling at each other. They looked to be about a stellar-cycle old, or about 7.5 Earth months. One was green, silver and gray; the other white, blue and black.

"Nice to see you, Hatchet," Remedy said, breaking the silence. "You remember Pharma, right? And the youngling is Silverlight, our first creation. Optimus told us the bitlets were going to be in your care. According to the records we were sent, the green one is Turbo and the white one is Strider."

The Praxian stood, handing the twins over to Ratchet, who took one in each arm, heading back toward the med bay, comming Wheeljack to meet him there. And once he saw what Ratchet was carrying, his fins flashed blue in surprise.

"Where did you get those?" Wheeljack asked.

"Two of the sparklings from the attack on Polyhex. Apparently Optimus thought we'd be a good choice as guardians," Ratchet said, handing Turbo over to Wheeljack.

"He did it without asking, too," Wheeljack, said, at once throwing his head back, howling with laughter. Turbo whistled in surprise, patting at Wheeljacks arms, and he cuddled the green twin. "Oh, this is too good. Of course we're going to keep them, and if you say no, so help me Primus. . ."

Ratchet smacked him in the head with his hand. "If I was going to say no, would I be here with them right now?"

"I don't know," Wheeljack said. "I know you owe Aid an apology. I'd start with that, or at least talking to him. Is that too much to ask?"

"No," Ratchet said. "I'll go get him. He's a part of this, too."


	23. Chapter 23

Atonement

Chapter 23—Catalyst

Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers. They officially belong to Hasbro and Takara. I'm taking them for a short spin.

Ratchet let himself into the quarters he shared with Wheeljack and First Aid. The other medic didn't answer when Ratchet called his name, and he wasn't in the outer room, but Ratchet found him in the berth room, reading a medical journal.

"What do you want?" First Aid asked, setting down his data pad.

"We need to talk," Ratchet said. "And it's not about the transfer. This is something that requires immediate attention."

"You're not making any sense," First Aid said.

"You're getting your wish," Ratchet said. "Not quite in the way you wanted, but still, there's something you need to see. Come with me to the med bay and I'll explain."

The younger mech stood, following Ratchet in silence, entering the med bay behind his mate. Ratchet stepped aside, revealing Wheeljack playing with two mechlings.

"Meet Turbo and Strider," Ratchet said. "We've been granted custody because we're a bonded trine and Wheeljack and I have raised split-spark twins before. Optimus really didn't give me a choice, Wheeljack is threatening me with bodily harm if I refuse, and I hope you're all right with this. I know you're angry with me for always making decisions, but this, I think, was the right one."

First Aid sat down by Wheeljack, who offered him Strider.

"We get to keep them?" Aid asked.

"Yes," Ratchet said. "I know you wanted a sparkling of your own, but that can still wait, can't it?"

"We're going to discuss that," Wheeljack said. "Not negotiable. You owe both of us an apology, but it can wait a bit. We need to get to know these little guys."

Ratchet watched First Aid nuzzling the sparkling's helm, and Wheeljack handing the twin in his lap a wrench, which he stuck in his mouth. The battle was lost, and he was going to have to concede.

88888

Optimus Prime was in his quarters, finishing up a report to send off to Ultra Magnus, and read the latest communication from his friend. The other sparklings from the Polyhex attack were doing better, and Magnus said the recommendations for placement for the other two sparklings were approved. However, Ironhide wouldn't stop pestering about when he and Chromia would take custody of the femm, and Hound and Mirage had showed up at the medical facility quicker than expected, waiting on news of the mechling they would get. Optimus was grateful for the news both pairs were willing and ready to take on such responsibility, and that Hound and Mirage couldn't wait to bring their charge back to Autobot City.

All good news, but still no word on who was responsible for the attack, and Jazz and Kup were stepping up security to keep anything else from happening. Work done, he set down his data pad and stylus, turning his attention to Hot Rod, who was sitting on his berth, cross-legged, sparkling curled in his arms, recharging.

"He's cute," Hot Rod said, finally breaking the silence. "He got a name yet? You can't just keep calling him 'bitlet.' Hardly a fitting designation."

"I haven't yet given any thought to a name," Optimus said.

"How about Firebolt?" Hot Rod suggested.

"Did you just come up with that?" Optimus asked.

"I've been mulling it over since you got here, and you never mentioned a name," Hot Rod said.

"I like it," Optimus said. "Firebolt it is."


	24. Chapter 24

Atonement

Chapter 24—Against the consequences

Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers. They officially belong to Hasbro and Takara. I'm taking them for a short spin.

Hot Rod took a break from reading, glancing down at the sparkling curled against his chest. Firebolt was quiet so far, staring back at him, chirping in contentment, and so far so good. Optimus left the sparkling with him while he went to talk with Ratchet, and had fed Firebold before leaving. Now Hot Rod could only hope he didn't have any problems with the sparkling until Optimus came back. Besides, what did he know about sparklings and taking care of them? Next to nothing, and here he was, having volunteered to watch one. Now someone was at his door, and it opened, before he could even answer the chime. And it revealed Springer, who was giving him a strange look.

"Where did you get that?" Springer asked, pointing at the sparkling in Hot Rod's arms.

"Optimus brought him back from Cybertron," Hot Rod said.

"Aren't you two moving a little fast?" Springer said.

"Like you should talk," Hot Rod retorted. "Why aren't you with Echo?"

"Prowl's with her so I could come see you," Springer said. "The kid got a name?"

"His name is Firebolt," Hot Rod said.

"Gimme," Springer said, taking the sparkling as Hot Rod handed him over. "Hey 'Bolt. You're gonna love it here, and my little femme is going to be your playmate. I bet you'll like that. And Afthead Prime here is hopefully going to be your other guardian soon. He'll be the fun one."

Hot Rod glared, but Springer only grinned back.

"They'll have more than each other," Hot Rod said. "Ratchet, Wheeljack and First Aid got the twins, and Mirage and Hound got one, too. Don't forget Galvatron and Starscream's twins. Echo isn't the only femme. She was placed with Ironhide and Chromia."

"At least Echo won't lack for playmates then," Springer said, handing Firebolt back to Hot Rod. "I do just have one question—how in the Pit is Optimus going to take care of a sparkling? Just dump it on you because it's convenient?"

"I volunteered to watch him this morning," Hot Rod said. "Not like I've got anything better to do, and I can read reports while I watch Firebolt."

"I'll have to make sure Prowl drops by later," Springer said. "He's been throwing around ideas about the possibility of more sparklings and the need for daycare like the humans have, so you two can talk about it."

"Not a bad idea," Hot Rod said.

"No kidding, because what are the two of us supposed to do with Echo when we both go back on active duty?" Springer said.

"Come up with a duty roster that takes families into consideration," Hot Rod said.

"You can take that up with Prowl and Optimus," Springer said. "Enough about work. Put down that data pad, and let's take your kid to meet Echo."

"He's not my kid," Hot Rod said.

"Might as well be, considering the circumstances," Springer said. "C'mon."

88888

Ratchet's discussion with Optimus had gone well, despite his initial misgivings. And his Prime had been adamant about using the opportunity before him as a chance to work things out with First Aid and Wheeljack. The talk behind him, the medic was now enjoying a little family time. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were meeting the new sparkling twins for the first time, and already considered Turbo and Strider their brothers. Ratchet smiled at the soft glow of Wheeljack's optics as he watched their grown twins with the sparklings.

"We did good," Wheeljack said. "How could you not want to do this again? Have our own sparkling even?"

"Now isn't the time," Ratchet said.

"It is," Wheeljack said. "First Aid wants a sparkling—our sparkling. We can handle a set of twins, and our own, as there's three of us. We've done this before, except now we have an extra set of hands. And look at Sides and Sunny—they'd help if we asked."

"I'll think about it," Ratchet said.

"Ratch, we can never replace what we lost, but we can try again, y'know?" Wheeljack said. "We raised Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, created the Dinobots, and now we have these twins. We've done this before, and 'Aid wants a family, Ratchet."

"He has it now," Ratchet said.

"He wants a piece of us," Wheeljack said, placing a hand on Ratchet's shoulder. "I want it. Don't you?"

"It would further complicate things," Ratchet said.

"So what?" Wheeljack said. "When have things ever been simple or easy for us? You fight for everybody but yourself these days, Ratch. Maybe this is what we need."

"Another sparkling with the two we've just been given?"

"You don't have to carry it, Ratchet," Wheeljack said. "First Aid can, or I will."

"You won't be able to go to Cybertron to assist with the engineering study," Ratchet said.

"Then we can spark up 'Aid, and I can go," Wheeljack said. "Or I can consult. Perceptor and Skyfire already forwarded me the preliminary scans, and Starscream included the blueprints of Shockwave's base, so I have a place to start without leaving you two."

"Do you really want to go?"

"Not really," Wheeljack said. "The project is tempting, but I'd rather stay here with you. We've lost so much time already."

"You're not going to give up on this, are you?" Ratchet said.

"No," Wheeljack said. "I never wanted you to give up on something we both wanted so much. I just want you to think about it, all right? Can you promise me that?"

"Yes," Ratchet said.

"Thanks, Ratch," Wheeljack said, throwing an arm around the medic.


End file.
